The Sapphire Mage
by TakesTwoToTango
Summary: Years have passed since a girl named Sophie won the heart of a wizard named Howl. Their son Felix meets a mysterious woman from another world named Ana. With her, Felix will embark on a wild campaign to save his family, country, & the craft he holds dear.
1. Traveller

This movie is so amazing!! I just discovered it yesterday, and the spirit moved me. So see if you like the Sapphire Mage…

Ch 1: Traveller

The small town of Luxton didn't see much. Not much action, not much boredom. Not much hate, not much love. It was a quiet place that trundled through time with dogged singularity. Cradled in a curve of the northern border, Luxton was a chilled stretch of land that depended mainly on hardy livestock and wrinkled, tough potatoes as staples of commerce. If you were born in Luxton, you often died in Luxton. It was a misty place, the fog sometimes so thick that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. There were stories of the Lost—men, women, and children swallowed by the vapors. It was said that their spirits roamed the land, forever trapped within the confines of the mist.

So when a tall figure, draped in a long, black cloak appeared on their frosted horizon, the people of Luxton were gripped by a shiver of fear. It was an instinct to think of him, for his stride was a masculine one, as one of the more vengeful Lost. But the stranger proved human, relieving the ones who caught sight of his pale, human face under the shadows of his hood.

Making his way down the deserted main street, the visitor stepped inside the quiet inn with a sigh of relief. Tossing back the deep cowl of his cloak, the young man brushed back his untidy hair as his eyes searched for the proprietor. The inn was still, but much warmer than the damp, determined cold outside with its moderate blaze burning in a small hearth. There was bitter, snapping air out there, a climate no mortal relished to be exposed to for long. He had been raised in the cold of the Waste, but this little town was farther north, just on the border of Calimar.

"Hello?" he called, unaware of how the deep timbre of his voice was beautifully similar to his father's. Moving to the front desk, he gently ran long, clever fingers along a string of bells. They jingled cheerfully, echoing far back into the halls of the inn.

Although the owner didn't respond to the summons, something else did. The man had to gulp back a gasp when a huge black and white cat, about the size of a small dog, leapt up on the counter, landing with the agility of a hunter.

"Well, aren't you a handsome thing?" he murmured as he stroked the cat's large, splotched head. Arching like a bow, the cat started to purr, his throat rumbling like an engine.

"I see Sierge has made a friend, something he's not apt to do. You should be honored." The young man glanced up from the twisting cat under his hand to the middle-aged man stumping down the set of shadowed stairs behind the front desk.

"Then Sierge seems to be an excellent judge of character," the young man said with a smile as Sierge bumped his large head against his waiting hand again. The inn-keeper grinned as he hefted a giant, dust-coated ledger up onto the counter.

"That he is. Sierge is something of a guard dog around here. He must see something in you." The young man signed his name in the ledger, shifting his cloak back to free his hand. He played his free fingers over Sierge's spine as he skillfully and swiftly signed his name on the yellowed page. The inn-keeper raised a brow at the sapphire blue lining of his rich cloak. His eyes then moved to the blue crystal hanging from a slim silver chain, delicate as a child's tear, glowing against the black of the stranger's clothes.

Despite his failing eyes, the inn-keeper had spent many years reading names upside-down, and the man's name was not one he'd seen often.

"Felix? I can't remember where I've heard that name before." The young man's smile was slow, and a little glittery.

"The only Felix I know of is the son of Howl, the Wizard. Looks just like him supposedly." The inn-keeper let his aging eyes flash over the man standing on the other side of the counter again. This Felix's tousled black hair was so dark, it was almost blue, rippling in the faint candlelight like the wing of raven soaring in the sun. His well shaped eyes, ringed with long lashes, shone the blue of a misted mountain sky. From his left ear hung a dark blue, almost black stone. His clothes consisted of a black, simple waistcoat over a loose white shirt tucked into black breeches. His tall boots were mud-spattered, but of good quality. And of course, that cloak that seemed to be soaked in magic. Meeting Felix's grinning eyes, the inn-keeper smiled warmly.

"Welcome, Felix, son of Howl. It is truly an honor." The inn-keeper offered his hand, and was a little surprised when the young man took it and shook with graciousness. Immediately, the man insisted on giving Felix his best room free of charge. Glancing around at the room that was entirely too empty and the floor that was a little too rough, Felix denied his generosity, and insisted on an average room at full price. The inn-keeper worked him down to ¾ of the original price before leading him up another set of stairs.

Both stairs and banister were a rich chestnut hidden under a thick layer of dust. Their footsteps were almost silent but the squealing of the beams was plaintive. The man insisted on opening Felix's door himself, and then settled into regaling Felix with his memories of the many tales surrounding Felix's father.

It took some convincing, but Felix was finally able to rid himself of the inn-keeper. As much as the man's attention was flattering, Felix was desperate for some time alone. He had just broken with a group of gypsies, and as fascinating as they were, it was difficult for Felix to spend a prolonged amount of time with such boisterous people. Felix had grown up with minimal human contact from those outside his family.

An extended amount of time with many people often left him with the sensation that a family of birds had taken roost in his stomach. He had learned long ago that the only cure for these spells of restlessness was a long interlude of solitude. Felix had stopped in Luxton intending to stock up on supplies before traipsing southward again through the Ruby Forest.

But before he began that leg of the journey, Felix was going to rest on a real bed, an anomaly he hadn't seen for months. It had been a while since the feel of feathers under his spine. Shedding his boots, cloak, and waistcoat, Felix tumbled into bed, his eyes already drifting close. Curled on his side, the strangely glowing crystal managed to land in the curve of his palm. Waving a sluggish hand toward the foot of the bed, Felix drew up the homespun quilt of maroon and green pattern without actually grasping the cloth. It was simple magic, but enough to drain the last of Felix's energy. As his eyes slid close, the crystal in his hand flashed once before it, too, fell silent.


	2. Falling

Ch 2: Falling

Anastasia O'Neill was having a really bad day. It was so bad, in fact, that she strongly considered heading off to the nearest pub to knock back a couple shots of good whiskey. She wasn't much of a drinker, so this pondering was rather useless. But it helped to think that perhaps there was something in her deviant enough to stroll into a bar and swig whiskey like it was water. Maybe, just maybe, it would help.

Letting herself into her small flat, Ana paused to snap on the lights and drop her soaking wet bag, coat, and umbrella off at the door. Normally a tidy person, Ana sneered at the jumble of effects lying pathetically by the door jamb. Stomping off to the kitchen, she started a pot of tea with a slam, and enjoyed brooding at the teapot as if it were her boss's head. Well, her ex-boss.

Oh, if only she had gone with her instinct and quit a week ago. She could have circumvented this whole devastatingly embarrassing episode. But no, Anastasia was not one to go on instinct or gut-feeling. She was notorious for over-thinking and rationalizing, and so had denied herself the distinct pleasure of tossing Harold's crappy job and even crappier pay back in his face. Instead, she had steadfastly clung to her job, waiting for the storm to pass. And so was forced to be there when Harold handed her the final paycheck with a simpering, snarky look on his face.

"Bollocks," she muttered under her breath, trudging to her bedroom about the size of a closet. Practically ripping her neat, painfully plain navy suit off, Ana snuggled down into a pair of sweats and an over-sized sweatshirt to combat the wicked cold of a London winter that sinuously wound its way into her place. It wasn't a home, not quite; but she could say without embarrassment that it was her place of residence.

The kettle started to scream, and Ana was surprised at her instinctive baring of teeth. Ana had never been a particularly aggressive person, so her fighting instinct was one she had thought rather weak. The job incident was case in point. Pouring herself a large cup of tea, Ana made her way to the small den, flopping on the couch with a drawn-out huff.

After a few sips, Ana ruthlessly tugged her hair out of its severe bun at the base of her neck. Wildly waving and the color of umber, it was almost waist-length and thick as rope. Her father liked to say that since her eyes were so cool—almost jade green—that her hair had to make up for it with its fire. Oh, Dad. What am I going to do now?

Moodily sipping her tea, Ana started when the phone trilled with its mind-numbingly happy squeal. Sighing, she picked up the telephone, taking her good sweet time bringing the phone to her ear. She knew who it was, and was far from eager to hear her mother condescend/comfort her. It was a tension of emotions that made Ana's head and stomach hurt.

"…Ana, you've just got to start learning to trust yourself. Didn't you tell me just last week that you had a bad feeling about that job?"

"Hello, Mum," Ana said softly, letting her attention wander to the novel lying split on the coffee table. Her mother continued to chatter, and Ana continued to ignore her, propping the phone gently against her shoulder and picking up the book. Flexing it a bit to loosen the spine, Ana snuggled down into the old couch's sagging cushions, uttering an occasional, "Hmm," and "Yes, Mum, I know," to keep the ball of her mother's conversation bouncing.

Ana often felt guilty using this technique whenever her mother called. But if she were to be honest, she was far from the mood needed to deal with her mother. That required patience and a steely control, neither of which Ana had at the moment. Instead, she allowed the words of the book to wash over her as she dived headfirst into the confrontation between the protagonist and a shadowy figure from her past where Ana had left off last night. It was a mostly undiscovered author who possessed some fabulous figurative language. Needed a little work on the dialogue, but her descriptions were poetic and very powerful. She was enjoying her book, and escape, so much that it took her mother repeating the question several times for Ana to hear it.

"…Ana? Ana, are you listening? Hello, Anastasia?"

"Hmm? What is it, Mum?" Ana took a quick sip of tea to wet her throat as her mother cleared her's in exasperation.

"Ana, I need you to come over here, right away. I found something in an old trunk that might interest you." Ana dropped her head back against the spine of the couch, sighing.

"Mother, I'm sorry. I'm just not up to it. I-"

"Ana, I found something of your father's." It had been a long time since Ana had heard her mother use that serious tone of voice. It sent shivers down her spine.

"What did you find, Mum?" The explosive whoosh through the phone warned Ana that her mother was sighing. She always did have a taste for the melodramatic.

"It's difficult to explain, Ana. It would be best if you just came over right away." Ana weighed the options. Her mother could be dragging her across town to her flat in order to scold her for her stupidity over losing her job, and this business about finding something of her father's could be a ploy.

Or it could be real. Jason, Ana's father, had died when Ana was fourteen. Painfully closer to her father than her fluttery mother, Ana had taken the car accident hard, and had grieved the decade since. Father's Day and his birthday, April fourteenth, were hell. Any possession of his was treated as if it were the treasure of Atlantis itself. Her mother knew that, and Ana didn't like to think that she'd go that far just to get Ana face to face to bitch and grind on her self-esteem. Pursing her lips, Ana weighed her options.

"All right, Mum. I'll be over in twenty," Ana agreed quietly.

The travel across town was slow progress, the rain a slicing sheet that hid even the clearest lights from view. Martha O'Neill's stylish flat had been acquired several years after her husband's death, and something in Ana rejected it at a very basic level. It was feminine, delicate, and there wasn't a trace of her father anywhere. She often had to force herself to visit her mother, Martha's nosy and bossy nature not making the trip any easier. Ana pulled her small car, almost as old as she was, into the tiny parking space in front of her mother's building. She had changed into jeans and a sweatshirt from the University of London over an old blue t-shirt, and was grateful for the sensible boots she had slipped on as she splashed through an overflowing gutter on her way to the door. Ana trudged up the stairs to her mother's, counting the steps in a heralding to her childhood. Every time she walked up the stairs to her mother's, and only on that staircase, did she count.

Her mother let her in with a tad more seriousness than usual. Ana tried not to furrow her brow as she was led into the living room and directed to the small sofa, made of a bronze-colored material with sapphire throw pillows. It was utterly her mother's style, and rather unappealing to Ana. Her mother disappeared into the study with a solemn look on her face, leaving Ana to wring her hands impatiently.

"OK, Mum, what's this about?" Ana tried to ask in a polite voice once her mother returned. She tracked Martha's movements with sharp eyes, and could see clutched in her mother's slim hand was a thick, yellowed envelope. Martha lowered herself next to Ana slowly, gently placing the lumpy package in her daughter's hands. Flipping it over carefully, Ana gazed at the artful scrawl across the front of the envelope, which felt suspiciously like parchment.

To Ana, My Legacy.

"He always did say you were the reason his heart flamed." Ana glanced up from the package, searching her mother's eyes as she hadn't done in a very long time. She remembered the hazel and the shape similar to her own, but the wrinkles seemed newer, and all the more painful for it. There was a bitterness and sorrow in those eyes that Ana had never seen before. Or perhaps had not wished to see.

"Mum, he loved you," Martha huffed gently, shaking her head.

"What your father felt for me was paltry compared to the love he felt for you. You were his Ana," she murmured as her mother ran gentle fingers through Ana's hair. "You were his, more than you were ever mine. It wasn't fair." Martha sighed as she dropped her hand from Ana's face, standing slowly. "It wasn't fair that he was taken. He still had so much to give you." Martha strode away to the kitchen, and Ana could hear the clattering of her mother putting on a kettle of tea.

Ana had never seen her mother that way. Martha had a painful tendency to make light of the past, her triumphs and mistakes alike. Ana felt guilty about agreeing with her mother in the idea that she had loved her father more. Perhaps there was more to Martha O'Neill than Ana could have guessed.

Returning her attention to the envelope, Ana ran careful fingers over the writing. There was a strange lump in the bottom right corner. Turning it over, Ana slipped her finger under the flap, intent on ripping open the letter, her hand trembling a little. After only an inch, though, the paper's edge bit into Ana's skin. With a small indrawn breath, she snatched her hand away, peering at the small cut. Blood welled until poised on her skin like a crimson pearl. Ana watched with a strange fascination as the drop of blood slid off her skin, plopping onto the envelope with a small ring.

Ana winced at the blemish upon a rare gift from her father. Glancing towards the kitchen, Ana could hear her mother contentedly humming as she prepared tea. She always was something of a homebody. Satisfied that her mother wasn't going to return any time soon, Ana determinedly finished the tear, pulling the thick paper out with gentle fingers. Taking her time to unfold it, she placed the letter on her lap with reverent care before looking again inside the envelope.

Deep inside was a delicate bracelet. Pulling it out with confusion, Ana held the piece of jewelry up to the light. The metal appeared to be silver at first, but was darker, and almost iridescent. It was worked into the shape of a twisting dragon, green gems that were too misty to be emeralds set in the dragon's eyes. Clutched in its small claws was a teal stone about the size of a marble. It rippled and shimmered with the light, and a strange buzz flitted into Ana's blood from her fingertips, tripping up her arm until it hummed in her throat.

There was something too powerful about the bracelet to encourage just any person to wear it. Setting it aside along the blood-stained envelope, Ana picked up the letter. She brushed regretful fingers over the spot of blood no bigger than a pea repeated twice, and started to read. But she had gotten no farther than "My dearest Ana," when the paper started to warm. The spot of blood became a pinprick of light, which slowly bled into the words until the whole sheet shone like a star. A soft keening drew Ana's puzzled attention away from the letter to the bracelet she had set aside.

Like the paper, the stone in the dragon's claws glowed with a bright silver light. She gingerly picked it up, and almost dropped it again to find the bracelet warm as human skin, when only seconds ago, it had been cold to the touch. A gentle wind stirred Ana's thick hair, and she had to tighten her grip on the paper to keep it in her hands as the air grew more aggressive.

The pitch grew even higher, and Ana tucked the letter in her sweatshirt pocket while she slipped the bracelet on. "Mom!" she cried, but her voice barely carried over the wind. "MOM!" Ana could see her mother race out of the kitchen, a look of concern on her face when, quite suddenly, there was no floor beneath her. Ana dropped out of sight without so much a whisper, the hole closing over her head. This wasn't the floor below, it wasn't even outside. She was dropping through a field of black, pinpricked with misty stars that flew by in streaks of light.

Too shocked to scream, Ana could only hug her arms close as she plummeted, fighting against the bone deep cold that tore through her clothes within seconds. There was terror within her somewhere, an instinctive fear of falling. But it was buried very deeply by confusion and wonder. What was happening, and how could it happen? There was no wormhole beneath her mother's flat. And what could account for the behavior of the parchment and the bracelet?

Ana could no long feel her feet and hands, and her face was a mask of ice. With her blood flow went her reasoning powers. Her stomach still in her mother's flat, the rush of lights started to make her ill when combined with the cold, so, against all instincts, Ana closed her eyes. Pressing her lips harder and harder together, she couldn't feel it when they started to bleed.

Through her tightly closed eyelids, Ana could sense a change in the light. Glancing down, she clenched her teeth against a wave of sickness. Very, very far away was a little dot of light that was gradually growing larger. She was so cold she no longer shivered, just fell through the space like a block of ice. The dot started to widen until, about five feet across, she could make out blue within the hole. Frost was starting to lace Ana's eyelashes and hair, and her breath came out in misty gasps.

Still, she drew closer to the gap, which widened like a yawning mouth. Then, with a small yelp, Ana was through. Glancing up, she watched again as the hole closed over her head, snipping off a half-inch of hair. Now, she was falling through real air again. For a moment, she sailed through blue sky before slamming into a cloud. Just as she had started to thaw, the cold, this time a very wet and heavy chill, snagged at her clothes and skin.

Ana was now blind, and had no gauge to measure her descent. Then, with the snap of the fingers, she was out of the cloud. The sun battled through the mists, shining stingy rays on the very far away ground down below. At the sight of the green slowly taking shape, a realization hit Ana. She had been freefalling for who knew how long, and was rapidly approaching the very hard, incredibly unforgiving ground. And she had no parachute.

She was going to die.

If she had the presence of mind, Ana might have started screaming, much good it would have done her. But Ana fell for a full fifteen seconds with her mouth gaping open, staring at the ground that she was very soon going to meet. She was only conscious again when an unfortunate bug splatted against her teeth. Sputtering and spitting with a vengeance, Ana was able to flex her fingers enough to wipe at the bug guts strewn across her face, making damn certain that she swallowed nothing.

As she wiped away insect remains, Ana slowly began to realize that, beyond all possibility, she was slowing down. Her hair didn't feel like it was going to be ripped out of her skull, and she could actually flex her legs out a little bit. Ana was still falling far too fast to survive unscathed—she had paid attention during this unit in physics—but maybe her parts wouldn't be strewn quite so far apart.

Yet she kept decelerating, slowly but surely. Ana actually dared to hope that, perhaps, beyond all reason, she wasn't going to share the same fate as the bug she could still taste and smell. Finally, she drifted down onto a tree, landing without so much as a creak on the branch. Just as she rested her hand against the prickly trunk, a great crack shattered the quiet.

"Oh, no," Ana whispered when, sure enough, the branch broke out from under her. It was her mother's living room all over again, but this time, she was falling through a tree. While it did slow her momentum, Ana was pretty sure she heard the snap of bone when she landed on her side on a particularly large branch. However, for all her scrabbling hands, Ana slid off the branch as if it was greased, and continued her raucous descent, branches catching and clawing at her with all the tenacity of blood-thirsty claws. A particularly springy bow caught her across the cheek with the snap of a slap, and Ana could feel her skin part and blood flow under her left eye.

Just as she was clearing the last ten feet of foliage, Ana could make out a person just underneath the tree. Despite her immense problem and rapidly accumulating pain, Ana had enough presence of mind to shout, "Shit! Move!" However, the unfortunate civilian either did not hear her or didn't understand her heavily accented voice (Ana had a tendency to thicken her normally smooth English when she was stressed or afraid.)

So, the circumstances completely out of her control, Ana landed quite ungracefully on the person. Her head smacked against the ground and, for a brief moment, Ana was enveloped in darkness.


	3. Meeting and Healing

Ch 3: Meeting and Healing

Felix had been aimlessly wandering through the forest neighboring Luxton the next day in much fairer weather when the first wave of light flowed across the hazy sky with a roar. Resonating from a point nearly directly overhead, the trolling lights pulsed like a heartbeat, deep emerald in color. The surges of color repeated like waves in a pool ringing out from a dropped pebble. After the leading edges of the third wave dimmed, a sharp crack sounded, followed almost instantly by a bolt of light streaking down through the sky to arrow at a tall oak, the light the same color as the waves. Breaking into a sprint, Felix followed the burning spear of light with intent eyes. He knew a crossing when he saw one.

Positioning himself beneath the leafy boughs of the tree the frozen green lightning was targeting, Felix rolled back on his heels, burrowing long hands in the pockets of his trousers as he leaned back to watch the spectacle. Narrowing his eyes against the bright light, Felix blinked when the bolt of crackling energy evaporated. In its place, a black disk the size of the ring on Felix's thumb spread high above, and he felt a fierce crook of his lips when a small figure fell through. It was a high crossing point, lending to the greater distance of the wizard's travels.

Felix had never actually attempted a crossing. His father preferred the castle's door, but had scribed a circle or two when it was necessary. However, Felix had studied crossings in depth, and was puzzled by the wizard's stillness. He should have started slowing his fall by now—it took time to halt so much generated momentum.

Suddenly, the traveler exploded in a flurry of movement. It was no slowing spell, but at least Felix was certain that the wizard was conscious and wouldn't splat all over the ground. After what seemed far too long, the wizard's fall started to gentle. Eventually, he settled softly on a long branch high in the crown of the oak. Felix's brow lifted at the feminine face he could see through the leaves. So the wizard was actually a witch.

Interesting. Felix was just processing the concept when the branch the witch was standing on, presumably recovering from the crossing, snapped like the clashing of teeth.

"Damn," Felix muttered. She crashed through the branches of the tree, and Felix rolled his weight back on his toes, following her violent fall with dogged eyes. He couldn't slow her; she was moving too fast and erratically for Felix to get an appropriate lock on her body mass and slow her down. But he could cushion her landing. Hopefully, she wouldn't break anything.

He heard the witch yell something as she cleared the last ten feet of foliage, but her accent was too thick to understand. It sounded like a warning, but Felix wasn't about to move right out from under her. His hands ready, Felix softened his spine and knees, ready to lessen the impact. As she tumbled free of the foliage, Felix sucked a deep breath, letting it ease out.

The witch was lighter than he'd estimated, but the collision still sent the two of them rolling to the ground. Felix did his best to shield her from the blow, but her head still rapped sharply against the dirt, and Felix winced as her eyes rolled close. She had fallen across his body, the curve of her spine fitting across his ribcage. Moving carefully, his lungs still scrambling for the air knocked out of them, Felix lifted the witch's legs, slipping out from under her while simultaneously setting her limp limbs slightly over.

Pulling a breath deep in his lungs as he rolled to his feet, Felix moved over to her side, dropping down on the ground with a huff. For a moment, he sat still, listening for hoof beats or footsteps. It was unlikely that he was the only one in the area that had recognized the crossing, and it had turned out to be a lightning crossing, no less. There was no doubt that any Arsalans in the immediate area would leap at the chance to drag such a prize back to the capital and their mistress, Lady Witch Sylvia Apollo.

However, it wouldn't have been worth the hunt. The woman bore incredible amounts of power in her blood, but it was wild, and untapped. This was no witch. It was unlikely she'd ever even called upon her gifts. And for all the crackle of energy around her, she lacked a talisman, or a spirit form. So if she hadn't traveled, Felix deduced, she must have been sent.

Silence continued to reign, and Felix let out the breath he didn't remember holding. Looking back at the woman, he was relieved to see her eyes blinking open, a hand moving to her forehead. She glanced around, a lost expression flitting over her eyes before sinking away again as she caught sight of the tree. She started to get up, but immediately laid back, a grimace twisting gentle lips.

"Here," Felix said quietly, offering a hand to help her sit up as he stood again. She took it reluctantly, and he watched her brow furrow as he helped lever her up, shifting to press a supporting hand between her shoulder blades. Kneeling back down in front of her, Felix cradled her pale face in his hands. The pupils in her jade eyes were still rather large, and the cuts scattering her face, especially that large one under her left eye, marred a quiet, regal beauty. Her nose was straight and small, and her slightly gathered brows a mildly darker tone than her midnight fire hair. Gently running his thumb over her cheekbone, just under the wound, Felix started talking to distract her from the pain.

"Rotten luck to have landed on a weak branch. I've heard crossing is hard enough without having to deal with falling through a tree." Felix made clucking noises with his tongue, keeping his eyes on the woman's as the wound knit close with a soft blue glow. Once healed, Felix ran gentle fingers up over her face and into her hair, checking the area she had cracked against the ground. She winced, but he didn't sense any blood gathering heavily under the skin or bone.

She watched him with wary eyes, like an animal recently beaten. Felix wasn't surprised—any human who crossed without prior knowledge of magic was certain to feel afraid. But he was unused to the expression turning his way, and it left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, justified as it was.

Settling back on his heels, he looked over the woman as she studied him, both kneeling only half a foot apart. There was something about her. She was so very different from his time and place; it was like handling a wild animal—foreign and disconcerting. And yet, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, her face tickled like a feather, a memory long forgotten and never touched since.

As he looked the stranger over, Felix had to admit that his first impression of beauty was an accurate one. Her hair, though threaded with bits of branches, leaves, and grass, curled wildly, thick as rope and red as a dead sun as it tumbled untamed over her shoulders and down her back. She had a fair complexion, under the smudges of dirt and what little bruising had escaped Felix's initial once-over.

She was wearing some sort of strange, baggy tunic that exclaimed in faded blue letters "University of London." Felix was certain that he had never heard of such a school, or such a city. Her trousers were a strange blue material that Felix had never seen before, frayed at the ends and faded along the thighs and knees. Scuffed, sensible boots completed her ensemble, and left him confused. Where had she come from?

Judging from her attire and demeanor, it was certain that she was as confused by him as Felix was by her. So, standing with a sigh and brushing at his legs, Felix offered her a hand to stand. He didn't miss the wince in her eyes when she stretched the left side of her body upward to swing out her leg. Dropping her hand, Felix looked outwards again, this time sweeping with a spell for anyone in the nearby vicinity. Working something like the sonar of bats, it came back uninterrupted. They had time yet. Turning back to the woman, Felix cordially extended a hand, softly arranging a gentle smile on his face.

"My name is Felix, a mage and the son of Howl. And you are?" She swallowed as she took his hand, but her grip was firm—and aspect that reminded him of his mother, and so always earned his respect.

"Ana. I suppose I owe you my life, Mr. Felix-"

"Please," Felix interrupted with a raised hand. "It's just Felix. I have too many surnames for any one of them to be of use. And while you would have been in some rather serious trouble had you fallen out of that tree with no one around, I doubt you owe me your life." He pressed his free hand to the one clasped in his other hand, granting her a smile he hoped was warm and gentle. It had been a long time since he'd had to truly comfort or reassure someone. Her accent had softened, her voice rich and smooth like dark cream.

She nodded in understanding with a rueful smile. Felix smoothly released her hand as soon as he felt the tendons in her long, almost fragile hand start to tense.

"Well, Ana, considering you don't know how you got to be here, can you tell me where you're from?" She started a little, surprised at his knowledge. Ana was a private creature, obviously, unused to others knowing pertinent information about her.

"Um… I'm from London." At the perplexed look on Felix's face, she rushed on, lilting her voice to change the statement into a question. "You know, the capital of England?" When his expression didn't clear, Ana blew out a hitching breath. "Ok, so if I can't tell you where I came from, can you at least tell me where I am?" Felix was a little worried. Maybe she had hit her head harder than he thought. But where did she get those strange clothes, and that accent? If he listened carefully enough, it sounded like his mother's. So how did she end up being sent through a crossing?

"You're near the town of Luxton, close to the border."

"The Scottish border?" Felix frowned—he'd never heard of such a province.

"No. Close to the border of Calimar." Ana started to look upset, pressing a hand to her forehead as she turned slightly away. He could hear her muttering under her breath, catching a few choice snippets. "Crazy," "Calimar," "Martha," and "What the hell?" was all the more Felix could make out of her conversation with herself. Settling his face into benign lines, he folded his hands and waited for Ana to resettle. Talking to yourself was nothing strange—it was just conversations with the other parts of your soul. His father did it all the time. It was just that Calcifer was _outside_ Howl's body, instead of _inside_ it.

While Felix didn't feel comfortable with pushing Ana while she was clearly upset and disoriented, he caught the faint report of hoofbeats, raising the hairs on the back of his neck almost instantly. It was time to go. Ana was still puzzling away when Felix snatched her arm, tugging her away from the tree, its branches blatantly broken and pointing their broken, irritated fingers straight at them.

Felix had been keeping out of Sylvia's sticky clutches for quite some time—he had no intention of being caught now, especially with some disoriented, upset foreigner in his care. Ana tried a short complaint, but Felix quickly hushed her as he dived into some underbrush, shielding her while he looked out through the leaves. Moments later, a platoon of cavalry men, totaling about 10 or 12, raced by, the shouts and grunts of command edged with the impatience of hunters. Their horses cleared a heavy log blocking the path with the thunder of racing hooves, and silence again fell.

Stepping clear of the bushes, Felix set a steady pace back to Luxton, careful to keep away from the main trails that the Arsalans were sure to comb. Ana went along willingly enough, but not without some questions. Felix tried to keep his patience about him—her questions seemed painfully obvious, but he had to remind himself that Ana was not of this world.

"Who were those men?" she asked, sensible enough to keep her voice down.

"Arsalans," Felix answered shortly, trying to discern a passable way through a thicket of dense huskberry bushes. But Ana continued to talk, and unwillingly drew Felix's attention away from the puzzle of the bushes.

"What are Arsalans?" she queried, her voice wavering a little. Clenching his teeth to swallow the short, disbelieving retort that wanted to shoot out of his mouth, Felix turned back to Ana. She was starting to come out of the daze induced by her fall from her world and the tree. And it was scaring the living daylights out of her. Felix had to keep that fact in mind.

"Arsalans are dogs of the Lady Witch Sylvia Apollo. They're her private army, her bounty hunters, and her personal guard. In short, they want to take you back to their mistress in Kingsbury as a prize, a symbol of their devotion," Felix explained as he bent low and weaseled his way through the bushes, pulling determinedly on Ana's hand to encourage her to follow.

"But…why do they want me?" Ana managed as she followed Felix through the wall of bushes. They weren't thorns bushes, luckily enough, but tightly entwined and furnished with hard, winding branches. The going wasn't easy, but they were making progress.

"You came… through a lightning crossing… one of the brightest I've ever seen. Whether the power comes from you… or the one who sent you… you are a source of energy and power that Lady Apollo would… do anything to bring under her control." Just as he was ready to lunge free of the bushes, the loose contact of Ana's hand in his tightened and tugged him to a stop. Glancing back, Felix's brow furrowed at the pale sheen of Ana's skin. "What's wrong?" Felix asked, concerned when Ana's eyes widened.

"What's…wrong?" she cried, her knees trembling a little. "I'm being hunted for reasons that I can hardly comprehend! And you! I don't even know you! Can I trust you? What about—" Ana's questions, quickly spiraling out of control, were cut off when Felix pressed his lips to her's. Her emerald eyes flashed wide, and Felix was relieved when the hands that flew up to his shoulders didn't push him away. Their eyes remained locked on each other's, and Felix's gentle fingers rested softly on her cheekbones. Her green eyes were focused so completely on Felix's sapphire eyes that she didn't see the blue glow quietly growing from their joined lips. Drawing away, Felix smoothed a hand over Ana's wild hair. She stood quiet and unmoving as Felix pulled away and took up her hand again.

"Your lips were bleeding. I didn't see that before. Come on," he urged gently. Ana followed quietly, her questions and fears effectively silenced for now. Finally, the pair left the trailing edges of the forest, approaching the border of the town proper. Drawing Ana into the shade cast by a dairy, Felix quickly conjured a rough black cloak out of the air with an artful twist of his hand.

"Here," he said as he whipped it around Ana's shoulders. "It's not only a cloak, but also a spell. No one will be able to see you as long as you don't speak." Ana opened her mouth to confirm that she understood, but Felix quickly held up a finger for silence. Nodding instead, she carefully pressed fingers to Felix's elbow as he strode around the building and headed down the main street he had traversed alone only yesterday.

A few people nodded greetings, but otherwise, the people of Luxton went determinedly about their ways without noticing the handsome stranger striding easily through their midst. Felix didn't need a cloak to make himself invisible, nor did he wish to be. A softening of the sight, however, did wonders to keep the busy from poking their nose around and noticing people they shouldn't. They were almost to the inn when the ring of hoofbeats echoed down the street.

"Hey, you!" one of the Arsalans called, pushing his horse up to a trot to catch up with the swiftly striding Felix. Ana's fingers tightened on Felix's arm, but his face remained easy and clever as he turned to face the mounted rider.

"Remember, Ana, stay quiet. It'll be all right," he murmured under his breath as the rider approached. "What can I do for you, sir?" he asked in a polite enough voice to the Arsalan. His fellows caught up, the dozen of them the same troop that had nearly caught Felix and Ana in the forest. Their gold and green uniforms were well-pressed, and the pistols and rapiers at their hips shone with quality and care. The handles of every man's weapon, be it blade or bullet, was well-worn, warning all that these were not men to be trifled with. The eagle entwined with a red ribbon clutching a staff decorated their right shoulders, the personal seal of Lady Apollo.

"Several of the town's people saw you enter the forest earlier this morning. What can you tell us about the crossing that happened half an hour ago?" the leader asked in a gruff, almost rude tone. He clearly didn't recognize Felix, or, if he did, he shared Lady Apollo's feelings towards Howl and those affiliated with the wizard.

"Crossing? There wasn't a crossing today," Felix countered in decisive, dismissive tone. He could feel Ana drawing closer to his side the longer they were delayed, but willed her to remain quiet and still. A little longer, and they'd be in the inn and briefly safe.

"Of course there was. We're well aware that you are Felix, son of Howl. Resistance will make your journey all the more difficult. If that doesn't affect you, we could always burn this decrepit little village to the ground to convince you." Felix ground his teeth, but kept a neutral, even impatient look on his face.

"Gentlemen, have you ever witnessed a crossing before?" At their shady exchange of glances, he barreled on, trying to walk the tightrope of convincing them in the quickest manner. "I thought not. The disturbance today was clearly caused by a neighboring town's harvest ceremony."

"This isn't the season for harvest!" one of the men exclaimed.

"Maybe not in Kingsbury, but here at the border the calendar is arranged a little differently. If you gentlemen would get out of the city more, you would know that already," Felix added for his own personal satisfaction. Believing their altercation over, he turned towards the inn, Ana a shadow clinging to his side.

"Halt, wizard! We're not done with you yet!" the leader bellowed. Felix flashed the Arsalan a look his mother would have blinked at, it was so close to the grinning, blade-keen glance his father had once pinned on a scorch-marked table. With a wave of his hand, Felix hurled the horses into a rage. Several animals bucked off their riders—others tumbled off as the horses bolted. Still more struggled with their mounts as they rose up into towering rears, screaming and slashing. Felix and Ana were almost to the gate when she happened to glance back.

One of the men, struggling up from the cobbles with a hateful grimace twisting his face, wrenched his pistol free of its holster, aiming its gleaming snout right at Felix's retreating back.

"Felix!" Ana cried as she shoved him down just as the pistol roared, the bullet burying harmlessly in the stone of the inn. The pair tumbled down, Ana landing on Felix again. They were just catching their breath when both simultaneously realized that Ana had spoken, and was now visible.

"That must be the witch from the crossing!" the Arsalans cried. Felix and Ana were frozen briefly, looking at each other with wide eyes. Suddenly, they shot to their feet, racing to the alleys, the thwarted Arsalans tight on their heels.

----------

_I'm sorry, everyone. I know this chapter took a very long time. I actually had to re-watch the movie to get motivated enough to finish it. But I'm pretty satisfied by it so far. Felix looks almost exactly like his father, and some of his expressions and mannerisms are the same. But he's got enough of his mother in him to hold off tantrums for the most part. You'll see that when I get them together. That won't be for a while, but it's something to look forward to. I've also got some of the plot lined up more definitively, which always helps to push me along. My greatest vice when it comes to writing is actually finishing something. We'll see how far along I get with this one. I might, _might_ just be able to finish it. A novel thought!_


	4. An Escape, A Note, A Bath

Ch 4: Depth

Ana felt so stupid—they were almost to the inn that Felix had been leading her to when she had screamed his name. She could have just pushed him out of the way, and gotten the same point across. No, she had to bellow his name and completely destroy her cover. She didn't blame him if he was pissed. Glancing over at the painfully handsome man sprinting at her side, Ana could clearly see his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. Yep, totally livid. She was lucky he hadn't just abandoned her at the gate and made a break for it.

The Arsalans were right behind them, and a little blood-thirsty if their shouts were anything to measure their emotions by. Felix's trick with the horses had been clever, and would have worked beautifully if that soldier hadn't pulled a gun on them. Really, shooting someone just because your horse dumped you. Childish, and vengeful. Men like that were something to be more than wary of.

Ana was grateful for the morning runs she regularly indulged in as they twisted and turned down the side alleys—after this distance at their present speed, anyone else would have started wheezing. A stitch was gnawing at her side, but Ana bore down, clutching tighter on Felix's hand. Suddenly, Felix tugged her into a small alcove that burrowed into the side of the bakery next to the inn. He pulled her in tight, waving a hand across the opening. The Arsalans thundered past, slowing right at the alcove's mouth. Ana pulled in tighter to Felix's side despite the scream her ribs gave, pressing her eyes closed as she prayed Felix wouldn't push her out into the street as punishment for earlier.

He surprised her when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her tight, whispering gently in her ear, "Easy, Ana. Almost there." Saliva clogged the back of her throat when she felt his hard chest against her back and toned arm rounding her shoulder, the contours of muscle as clear as the heat he pumped out through their layers of clothes. Swallowing hard, Ana reclaimed her focus. The Arsalans slowly started to converge back into a group once they had ascertained that Felix and Ana were nowhere to be found, close enough to the hidden pair that Ana could clearly hear what they were saying and see the sweat dribbling down their brows.

"We couldn't catch the wizard, sir. He might have taken the girl back into the forest," one of the men huffed at his superior. The man who had interrogated Felix narrowed his eyes with a low growl, and Ana swallowed a gasp when he looked directly at the alcove. Terrified that he would see them, Ana froze, certain that the light would catch the gleam of their eyes.

"Well, if the wizard and the girl don't show up within a day, we'll burn this village to the ground. Come on, we'd best report back to Lady Sylvia." The Arsalans trundled off to catch their horses and return to their camp. As they turned the corner back onto the main street, Ana released the breath she was holding, tumbling out of the alcove. Felix followed—however, his exit from the cramped space was a little more graceful, sliding out of the shadows with all the sinewy grace of a panther. His misty sapphire eyes followed the Arsalans' progress intently before turning them on Ana.

"Come on," he murmured, again taking Ana's hand as he led her out of the alleys and around the back of the inn. He stopped just short of the kitchen door, looking up at the second level windows. Ana was about to say something when he murmured, "Hold on tight," before wrapping his arm around her waist and leaping straight up into the air. His behavior was strange, but Ana was all the more perplexed when she rose straight into the air with a rush of wind, tight at Felix's side, as if they weighed as much a pair of birds. Ana couldn't help but wince as her ribs protested Felix's tight hold. She had experienced quite enough flying for one day, and had to press her lips tight to keep the whimper in her stomach, unaware of how the muscles in the hand holding Felix's convulsed. They rose straight to the second level, slowing to end up level with one of the windows to a room—Ana assumed it was Felix's. She was just about to point out the fact that the stingy window had no chance of fitting the both of them when Felix released her hand to draw a small pattern in the air in front of them.

The window warped, lengthening and groaning till it was about the size of a doorway. They landed lightly on the sill, and Felix casually pushed the window open as if it were a normal entrance. Ana stumbled inside on shaky knees, glancing back in time to see Felix glide through, turning to close their make-shift door. After he brushed back the midnight hair falling into his bright eyes, Felix again turned his powerful gaze to Ana.

Striding close, he murmured, "You don't need this anymore," as he passed ghostly fingertips over Ana's shoulders, the cloak disappearing into thin air much as it had appeared. "I have something to take care of. Once I get back, we'll deal with those ribs of yours." Felix studied Ana for a moment before straightening his waistcoat, spinning on his heel back to the window.

Just as he yanked the old, rain-warped window open, Ana blurted out, "I'm sorry, Felix," in an almost desperate tone. He paused, glancing back with a bemused expression on his face.

"Whatever for, Ana?" Somehow, his cool, puzzled tone made Ana feel all the worse. He was helping her, and all she had done was wreck the spell that had kept her hidden and get him shot at.

"For…earlier," she managed lamely. His expression didn't clear into cold understanding, however, and Ana grit her teeth as she staggered into an explanation. "If I had just kept my mouth shut, the Arsalans wouldn't even know I'm with you, and—"

"Ana," Felix interrupted, holding up one long, artful hand to stop her tirade. A small part of her was relieved he didn't use his mouth like last time. Balances in her soul were still reeling from that little episode earlier, and who knew what that kind of contact would do to her a second time. "I can hardly blame you for saving my life earlier. You did what was necessary—if the spell was sacrificed to achieve your goal, so be it. I may have lost the element of ambiguity, but I've gained something else."

"What's that?" Ana queried, slowly relaxing into the concept that Felix didn't want to throw her to the Lady Witch's hounds.

"Faith in you," he said shortly before leaping out the window. It crinkled close like tightened skin, and Ana was left alone, a little shocked and very relieved. And deep down, a small kernel of pride glowed like the setting sun outside. It had been a very long time since anyone had explicitly expressed faith and trust in her. Ana found that she missed the feeling. She strode to the window, peering through the shutters as Felix landed softly, jogging lightly to the front of the building with an almost animalistic grace. Ana didn't really know what he was up to, but trusted that whatever Felix intended to do, he had a reason, and he would be back soon. Unsure what to do with herself, Ana glanced around the simply furnished room, trying to glean some sort of clue about her mysterious rescuer.

The man's possessions were few; it would seem that all he had with him fit into a small pack dumped at the foot of the narrow bed. Ana couldn't quite bring herself to rifle through it, but her eye was caught by the long black cloak draped over the rough-hewn chair seated at the cramped writing desk banished to the corner of the room. Fairly certain that Felix wouldn't object, Ana hesitantly crossed the room, running careful fingers over the thick, well-worked cloth that was a strange mix of cotton and suede. She hefted it high, sighing in appreciation at the lovely cobalt silk lining. Looking closely, she could see that the lining was actually embroidered with thread the same color as the background.

Stars, moons, flames, dragons, and more all swirled over what seemed acres of fabric. Ana had to hold the cloak high to clear the floor—she was a tall woman, right around 1.75 meters tall. But Felix was easily taller than her, and the sensation of being shorter than others was not one Ana was familiar with. Yet for all his height, Felix was slimly built, his hips and waist lean while there was a depth of strength in his chest and shoulders. Not to mention those legs that went clear up to his ears.

Ana tried not to dwell on the beauty of her ally—it made her stomach quiver, and she had other things to worry about. She draped the cloak back across the chair, smoothing its folds with a thoughtful hand. Ana was just about to start pacing when she heard a scratching at the window. Her eyes flew to the glass panes, thinking perhaps Felix was trying to get back in. But instead of a handsome man with Black Irish colors looking in, a huge spotted cat was settling his wide rump patiently on the narrow sill. There was an edge of wildness about him that made Ana think perhaps he was a stray. He looked at her with indulgent gold eyes, shaking his head impatiently when she stood rooted by the desk.

It was when he shook his head that Ana noticed the worn leather collar rounding his thick neck. Not a stray after all. Maybe his collar would reveal something about who his owner was. Ana unlatched the window with some difficulty, the large cat slipping through a surprisingly small opening. He landed with a heavy _thud_ at her feet, winding around her ankles like a heavy snake while she could feel the vibration of his purring in her stomach. Kneeling down, Ana scratched the cat's thick jaw while she searched for the tag gleaming faintly among the ivory fur around his neck.

"Sierge," she murmured to herself as she moved her hand from the cat's jaw to behind his ears. Arching his back briefly, he twisted and flopped heavily on the ground, exposing his soft belly for attention. Ana's hand was outstretched when she noticed the dragon bracelet gleaming on her left wrist. Remembering suddenly how this whole episode began, Ana scooped up the heavy Sierge, who went willingly like an infant, and headed to the tall-backed chair facing the cold hearth. Settling in with the heavy feline in her lap, Ana withdrew the letter from the pocket of her sweatshirt. Glancing briefly at the cat, who was gazing at her with knowing eyes, she turned her attention back to the letter; opening its heavy folds, she began to read.

_My dearest Ana,_

_This letter will no doubt reach you long after I am gone. Attached to this message and the bracelet it entails is a spell. Yes, a spell. One that will take you far from the world you know and into a realm the likes of which you never could have imagined. Because I am not only Jason O'Neill. I don't only work for Alabaster Publishing, and I'm not just a husband and a father living in London, England. I am a wizard. A dimension wizard to be exact. That may not mean much to you, but simply I am traveler across bounds much more vast than a single world. This may be hard to understand, and I don't blame your instinctive denial. But you must understand that when I send you to this world, it is to protect you. _

_My supposed death was no accident—I am being hunted for the power I wield, and I couldn't involve you and your mother in my mistakes. So I took the path of a coward, and abandoned you. I have regretted nothing in my life more than that day, but I know that it was for the best. Besides, you were getting too old for my stories, anyway. My Anastasia, I know it is a lot to ask, but you must believe. Every tale I've told you, every rambling about Kingsbury and Porthaven and my good friend Master Howl—they're all true. I don't know when this will reach you exactly, so I don't know how much you'll remember. But understand that many dangers lie in this world—but far few than the amount waiting in the wings of the world you've left behind. Things may have changed since my last visit to Howl's realm, but in this world live the only people I would entrust the care of my most precious treasure to—the treasure of my daughter and her safety._

_The bracelet in this letter was made for you by Howl at your birth. He sent it in a crossing, much like the method of how you arrived in Howl's world, when he caught wind of the birth of Anastasia. It was not too long after the birth of his own son, I believe. It is your talisman, the focus of all your powers. It is not awakened yet, and it won't be until your own powers are awakened. It will take time, and training. Both of which you have in this world. But understand that you _do_ have power. Great wells of it, if your lineage is anything to gauge it by. You are a witch, my Anastasia, one of great potential and strength. It is time that you unlocked those doors leading to your spirit. I only wish I could be there when you do it._

_All of my love forever,_

_Your father,_

_Jason O'Neill, the Dimension Wizard_

Ana's fingers went limp on the paper. She looked up blindly at the dark hearth in front of her, the hand stroking Sierge's spine going still. This was just…impossible.

Thoughts started to tumble through Ana's head with faster and faster speed, a whirlwind starting to scream. Everything Ana had ever learned, ever believed was bucking frantically against the information her father was laying at her feet. She wanted to believe him—she truly did. But what he said was just unfathomable. A witch? Her? Was he insane?

No, Ana realized, her father wasn't insane. Hadn't she watched a man heal the wounds on her face with nothing more than a touch? Hadn't that same man conjured an invisibility spell out of thin air, then dismissed it with the same easy touch? And no matter how jumpy the horses were in disposition, a simple wave of the hand wasn't enough to send a whole team into a frenzy. Felix's actions before her very eyes were proof enough that her father hadn't been playing a cruel joke on his daughter. Besides, he had never been the type.

And if her father wasn't insane, Ana realized, then he must be alive. She was just wrestling with this concept when the door of the room opened briskly. Ana wouldn't have been torn out of her reverie if Sierge's heavy weight hadn't left her lap as the large cat leapt heavily to the floor at the sound of Felix's voice. Ana shot to her feet, wrestling the heavy letter back into the pocket of her sweatshirt and tugging her sleeve down to cover the bracelet. She didn't know why she hid the objects that had instigated her journey, but Ana was certain that she had enough to deal with right now—her father's questionable claim that she was a witch couldn't be a prime concern.

"Don't worry, I'll be down to drink that mug of ale. As soon as I clean up a little, I'll join you and drink you all under the table!" Felix jokingly called from the doorway as he backed in, talking to someone Ana couldn't see. Moving away from the chair, Ana stopped by a small table, hoping that her face was smooth. Sierge silently slipped through Felix's ankles, strutting out of the room on his merry way. Shutting the door, Felix leaned back against it, a small sigh easing through his lips as he caught Ana's gaze with wry eyes. She hadn't noticed it before, but fatigue was starting to carve moons of darkness under Felix's cobalt eyes.

"The innkeeper is determined to intoxicate me this evening as a reward for my dealings with the Arsalans today. Apollo isn't exactly popular in these provinces," he said as he pushed away from the door, shrugging out of his coat and waistcoat with tired movements, moving a little stiffly with his right shoulder. Ana wondered if he had injured it at some point today. She had never noticed him taking a blow. Perhaps he had hurt it when he had broken her fall.

"Why is that?" Ana queried as she wandered closer. With the adrenaline starting to fade, Ana's ribs were starting to throb; she tried somewhat unsuccessfully to keep it from showing on her face. However, instead of immediately answering her, Felix strode to the desk, pulling the chair out and gesturing for her to take a seat.

"Are you wearing another shirt under that tunic?" he asked as Ana hesitantly seated herself on the chair diagonally, her heart suddenly lodging itself rather thoroughly in her throat.

"Yeah," she managed to say. Catching the implication of his question, Ana ripped off her sweatshirt, careful to keep the heavy parchment from crinkling. Ana tried to calm herself, having a hard time combating the nerves chasing each other across her skin. The last time Felix had healed her, she had been dog-paddling through a mist of pain and still scrambling to remember her own name. This time, Ana was fully aware of the intimidatingly beautiful man kneeling at her feet, looking at her with those intent, tired eyes. At this rate, her throat was going to seal itself shut.

"Just relax, Ana," he said softly as he carefully lifted the edge of her t-shirt above the bruising that was starting to coalesce on her left side. Felix must have sensed the shivers trying to emerge in her hands, and started talking in that same smooth voice he'd used when he had healed her face.

"Apollo is advisor to the King, and since the end of the war almost two decades ago and her mother's death, she's been doing her best to revive the Kingsbury coffers. As a result, she's ruthlessly backed several tax bills that have struck hard at the strength of small towns such as Luxton. The king is something of an idiot—he'd rather be out hunting with his hounds. Instead, the man who's little more than a boy is stuck in meetings to discuss the barely water-tight economy of his country. So he did what he thought was best—he hired a wolf of impressive lineage that he already knew well and could be confident that she would take the weight of decision well off his broad shoulders. I suppose Apollo means well—she's just a little too willing to step on the little person to get her way for my taste." As he spoke, Felix gently pressed cool fingers against Ana's skin, completely obliterating any focus she might have had on his voice.

Somewhere along the way, she had forgotten how to breathe. Ana held utterly still, watching Felix's face with an almost desperate intensity. A blue glow started to resonate from Felix's hands, throwing his high cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes into stark relief. She felt a warm buzz seeping into her blood and feathering her bones, fizzing throughout her system like champagne before settling in her stomach to happily bubble. There was a momentary snap of pain that radiated across every nerve, like an electric shock, and then he was withdrawing, standing up unsteadily. It had been the same as before, only Ana was paying more attention this time. She surged to her feet as well when Felix started to tip, his eyes half closed and his right arm curled in tight.

"Felix! Are you all right?" Ana said as she shifted to support his lagging frame, concerned when he didn't immediately respond.

"I'm alright, Ana. Just overdid it a little today." He pushed away from her support, and Ana fought against the frown that started to dominate her brow. "A little sleep and I'll be good as new. You didn't tell me that you've broken your ribs before, although these were only greenstick fractures," he managed as Ana trailed him to the bed. Her frown deepened at his changing of the subject, but, thinking of the heavy circles under his eyes and the way he favored his right shoulder, she didn't fight it.

"Car accident. I was seven, and the airbag crushed my ribcage," she explained shortly, watching with apprehensive eyes as Felix bonelessly dropped onto the bed, struggling to summon enough energy to pry off those tall boots. Ana knew he probably didn't even know what she was talking about, but wasn't placated when he didn't ask for an explanation. "You didn't tell me you hurt your shoulder," she added as he finally dropped the first boot on the floor and started on the second.

"I dislocated it when I was sixteen. Getting into trouble as stupid young men do. Starts to hurt when I do too much magic, especially healing." Ana frowned again.

"Then why-?"

"You were in trouble, Ana, far worse than a nap could cure. Don't concern yourself," he murmured bluntly as he dropped the second boot to the floor and flopped backwards onto the bed. Eyes closed and already half asleep, Felix managed to mumble out some last minute warnings. "I'll be fine… in a while. When they come up here… to fill the bath… hide… so they don't know you're here. As soon… as I leave… you can… wash up. I thought… you'd like that."

"Thanks, Felix," Ana said quietly, but he was already asleep. From under his shirt, a blue glow briefly flashed, catching Ana's eye for a moment. Sighing, she returned to the other side of the bed to retrieve her sweatshirt, pulling it on thoughtfully as she rethought the whole healing episode. She had been practically out of her mind at his touch, ready to leap up the walls. This utterly unwelcome attraction was base, and nothing more, Ana was certain of that. But Felix might have been tending to a child for all the reaction he showed. Was she really so bad, Ana wondered as she slowly drifted back to the arm chair by the hearth. Catching a wink of light on the wall, Ana glanced over to see the setting sun reflecting off an old mirror haphazardly slapped against the wall, and answered her own question. Yes, she was bad.

Her hair was down, and completely out of control. There were still sticks and leaves in it, which Ana started to callously rip out. All of the make-up she had applied that distant morning had long ago drifted off. Smudges of dirt marred her cheeks, which were pale. Ana scrubbed the cuff of her sweatshirt over her face, glaring at the shapeless garment and old jeans that did nothing for her appearance. Searching her pockets, Ana was desperately thankful that providence had granted a hair tie on her wrist. Scraping her mass of wild hair back into a ponytail, Ana stomped away to the chair. Just her luck to look like a hag when thrown into a desperate situation with one of the best-looking men she'd ever seen. Karma must be throwing rocks at her. Dropping down with a huff, she brooded for a lengthy period of time until a knock on the door had Ana shooting to her feet.

"Master Felix?" a voice sounded dimly through the door. Glancing around the room, Ana quickly decided that the bed was her best bet. Racing across the room, she took a moment to shake Felix's shoulder, hissing his name in a bid to wake him up.

When he faintly muttered "What?" Ana figured that it was the best she could do, and slid under the bed. Her nose immediately began to itch, and Ana breathed out of her mouth to head off any urge to sneeze at the dusty environment under the old bed. She heard the person in the hall again try to get the patron's attention with a soft call. Felix lay still for a moment, then, with a start, grudgingly rolled to his feet. Ana watched as his stockinged feet staggered to the door, opening with a sleepy "Yes?"

The bath bearer said something softly that Ana didn't catch, but she did hear Felix's muttered, "Just put it over there." He shuffled back to the bed, collapsing heavily enough to make Ana hold her breath, fearing that something in the antique bed would break on her. She watched as well as she could as a large copper tub was deposited close to the fireplace, which someone was busily lighting. A long train of feet followed, accompanied by the rhythmic splash of water into the copper tin. After about twenty minutes, the train stopped, and the feet shuffled out of the room. Once the door shut, Ana carefully slid out from under the bed, glancing longingly at the steaming bath.

Felix rolled to a sitting position on the bed, stretching with a huge yawn. Ana heard several cracks from his spine as he arched backwards. Rubbing the back of his neck contemplatively, he bent to drag his tall boots back on. Relieved to see that the smudges under his eyes had faded a little, Ana wandered over the tub, grinning softly at the terry towels draped over the arm chair, coupled with a block of soap that smelled faintly of lemon. But the truly surprising gift was the folded clothes in the seat of the chair. Ana looked up with happy eyes as Felix finished buttoning his waistcoat and tugging on a black jacket that appeared from the depths of his bag. He flashed a brief, dazzling smile at the look on Ana's face, promptly taking her breath away with the careless flash of charm. It was like a lightning strike—blinding and swift, leaving her blinking and blown away.

"I asked the innkeeper for a set of clothes from one of his lads under the excuse that some of my clothes had been lost, knowing the boys to be slim creatures. I hope they fit you," he said in a rather satisfied tone. It _was_ a thoughtful gesture, after all. Ana watched curiously as he ran a hand down each of his sleeves, small green and yellow sparks flying off his fingers once they left the cuff of each sleeve. As Felix adjusted his collar with a small tug, a tiny _pop _sounded, and his clothes were pressed and clean, not to mention his neatly cropped dark hair was tamed back in a smooth style without even a hint of a comb. Ana was instantly jealous.

"Time to prove I can hold my liquor against these hardened farmers. Enjoy your bath, Ana," Felix said as he strode from the room. Mutely watching him go, Ana lifted a brow at the thought of Felix getting rousingly drunk downstairs. The spectacle might just be worth the risk, but Ana wasn't sure enough about her skills in the art of stealth to get herself down there and back again without someone noticing her. Every citizen of Luxton who happened to be looking out their window today saw the incident with the Arsalans, and they might have seen Ana, too. Felix was determined to keep her a secret—it seemed careless to ruin that image just to see him knocking back some ale with a couple friendly farmers. Besides, she had a bath to indulge in.

Despite Felix's careful healing, muscles throughout her entire body ached like bad teeth, and her legs were still a little whiny from their repeated sprints earlier. Ana tugged off her clothes after drawing the patched curtain at the window closed, setting the letter and bracelet atop her small mountain of clothes and shoes with care. Sinking into the steaming water with a held breath, Ana throatily released it as the water sloshed over her shoulders and started to sink into her tired bones. After the fall through the black stretch earlier this morning, Ana thought she would never warm up again. It was a blessing to feel heat thawing her tight muscles and bones, not only from the water but the quickly growing fire before her.

The copper tub was rather cramped, not designed to comfortably accommodate someone of Ana's height—however, she'd be dead before she complained at this point. Dipping her head back, she soaked the heavy weight of her hair fully, breathing deeply through her nose as she sleeked her hair back into a thick, manageable tail. She spent some time relaxing into the heat of the tub, drawing gentle, colorful patterns of colors behind her closed eyes when she wasn't contemplating the shifting flames in the hearth.

When Ana felt the heat of the water start to neutralize, she stretched an arm back to the heavy block of soap. Starting with her hair, which took entirely too much time, she worked over every inch of her body, scrubbing mercilessly at the dirt and blood that had crusted her skin. Rinsed and gleaming, Ana rose from the cooling water, flexing her stiff knees a bit as she reached for the towels. Wrapping her hair up in a turban with one, she thoroughly dried herself with the other after stepping out of the tub, making sure that no stray splotches had escaped her earlier cleaning.

Finally, she unfolded the extra set of clothes. The tawny breeches fit well enough—at least they had length—and were acceptably clean. The white tunic's neck was unlaced, and entirely indecent. Spending some time relacing the strings, Ana then rolled back the too long sleeves and tucked in the long tail to fill in the minimal bagginess at the breeches' waist. Padding in bare feet over the chair, Ana was just about to sit when she spied a quilt at the foot of the bed. Snagging the homespun blanket, she dragged it back over to the chair, settling in as she tucked the quilt around her feet and shoulders. Tugging the turban off, Ana spread her hair out to dry, again becoming absorbed with the flames in the fireplace. It had been a long time since she'd felt so quiet, so at peace. It was such a foreign feeling, and it wasn't long before Ana was lulled into a deep, drugging sleep—the most peacefully she had slept in entirely too long.

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_Geez, this is rough. I love writing description, but thoughts and dialogue is like wrestling with a chainsaw seriously lacking in imagination. I've been screaming through Nora Roberts books, trying to get a better handle on how she creates dialogue that is so effective, it makes me laugh out loud like a maniac. I have such a definitive handle on what these two look like, I'm still trying to pin down their personalities without losing dimension. Ana isn't a meek, obedient idiot, and, as you might think in the next chapter, Felix isn't a sex-crazed fiend. How do I make them human without making them inhuman? Moving has obliterated my moderation. This sucks. _

_Please let me know if you find this chapter mediocre. I will willingly spend more time on it if something explicit is wrong or off. On a side note, since I made Ana English, I expressed her height in meters, the universal measurement. However, for you Yanks like me, it's about 5'7", 5'8". So she's tall, but Felix ranges just over 6". FYI._


	5. Fireside Chat

Ch 5: Fireside Chat

Felix trudged up the stairs, putting on a show of drunkenness for his fellows. However, as soon as he passed from their line of view, he straightened, trotting up the stairs with ease. While he could drink with the best of them, Felix had thought it best not to invite a wicked hangover the morning he and Ana were supposed to sneak out of Luxton and draw the Arsalans onto their trail. So, he had cheated. Truthfully, he hadn't consumed a single drop of alcohol the entire evening, as Felix had studiously and stealthily converted every tankard of ale set before him into water. He had remained sober while the tongues of Luxton's most influential and opinionated people grew looser. With the camaraderie found over a pint of liquor, Felix had also learned about the Arsalans' presence in town, and what they had been up to since their arrival. He believed firmly in knowing all that he could about his enemy before engaging him openly on the battlefield.

Finally, accepting that there was little else he could glean from his weaving drinking companions, Felix had admitted defeat, claiming that he couldn't go on with the games. Two men had already passed out, currently snoozing off their hard-won unconsciousness on abandoned tables, covered by rough-hewn blankets. In truth, he wanted to get back to Ana; there was the obvious reason of relaying what he had learned back to her. While the need was hardly paramount, Felix felt it was fair to keep her involved. Yet if he were to be honest with himself, Felix would acknowledge that he didn't like leaving her alone. Her eyes were just a little too tired when he'd left, and her limbs a little too weary for his taste.

Ana had been pushed hard that day, and time spent away from him was time she spent in vulnerability. What little he could do running on so light of sleep was better than her complete lack of magical control or power. The thought sent unease trickling down his spine, and Felix was a little surprised to find himself so concerned about her. True, Ana had become something of his charge, but that hardly called for such personal investment. What was it about her that roused such bone-deep concern? With trepidation, Felix explored his feelings as he climbed the stairs.

Her appearance had seemed quiet at first—so quiet in fact, her beauty could almost be overlooked if not for the wildness of her hair or the gleam of her jade eyes. Ana's slim frame would have seemed almost delicate if not his intimate acquaintance with its speed. In her strange clothes, she seemed to be built almost boyishly. But when she'd leaped to his defense and landed on him again, Felix had discovered that her gentle curves were definitely female. Not to mention that little period crammed against her in a side alcove, when the faint scent of lilies wafting up from her skin made Felix want to squeeze his eyes close against the groan expanding in his throat. But, upon further inspection, Felix could safely say that his instinct to protect her wasn't defined by his inappropriate attraction to her. There was something in her personality, as well.

Her faith in him was unexpected, and wasn't reciprocated lightly. But she had clung to his side with the complacency of a child once events started to unravel, and had even sacrificed the safety of her silence to keep a bullet from pinging around in his skull. Strange, but occasionally, Felix was reminded of his mother when Ana spoke or smiled, which made it all the more unacceptable when he started mentally peeling away her clothes. The self-depreciation of extreme modesty lined many of her words, and her eyes had a watchful wariness that communicated her habit of emotional distance.

And meanwhile, Felix was still waiting for the restlessness and impatience to surge to the surface, as it often did. With the exception of very few people, Felix had the unfailing fault of becoming anti-social after spending too much time in a person's company. But with Ana, he wanted to make that hunted animal expression leave her eyes. A wild recess of his soul demanded burning away those shadows with the heat of skin to skin, an urge he duly ignored. He had been forced to bite the inside of his cheek hard to steady and discipline his hands when he'd healed her ribs. Her unmarred skin was like porcelain, and fire had crackled violently in Felix's blood when he'd pressed all-too eager hands to her skin.

Certain that his expression would bleed into his eyes and voice, Felix had struggled hard to impose a cool edge to his tone and gaze, quick to move away when she had sprung up, concerned about his unsteadiness. The pain in his shoulder and the roiling in his stomach had been welcome reprieves from the need skimming along his skin. As much as Felix wanted to see more of that unblemished skin, he just as forcefully condemned those thoughts as both uncouth and unacceptable. Ana needed his help, not his lust, so he would leave those lovely lips well alone.

He couldn't have left the room fast enough when the bath had arrived. Just imagining that scenario made Felix's tongue want to loll out of his head. Drawing a cleansing breath when he reached the door to calm and discipline himself, Felix firmly shoved such thoughts out of his head. As he entered the room, he contemplated sending out an echo spell like the one he had used in the forest earlier, but his shoulder still whimpered. Any more aggressive magic would start dissolving the healed tissue, and the slightest bump would send the bone bouncing out of the socket. It had happened before, and Felix had seriously considered asking his father to just shoot him and put him out of his misery at the time. He'd just as soon avoid that course of action.

"Ana?" he called out quietly, the shadows thick as mud but for the smoothly dancing fire burning in the hearth. Waiting for a few moments, the hair at the back of his neck started to rise and the sour taste of something he refused to identify as fear started to coat his throat and tongue when the room remained silent. Leaping to the window, Felix was fully ready to rip the sash up when he heard a soft rustle behind him. Felix's head whipped around so fast, it was a wonder he didn't injure his neck. Again repeating her name at large to the room, Felix's eyes finally adjusted to the dark, and he could see Ana's bare feet dangling over the arm of the chair. Valiantly ignoring the small bolt that cracked through his blood—how attractive could a woman's feet be, anyway?—Felix strode over to the chair by the hearth, opening his mouth to talk. But the words crashed to a halt, piling up on one another in his throat as he finally got a good look at her.

She was sound asleep. Her long lashes feathering her cheeks, Ana's breath was the steady, gentle rate of the deeply sleeping. Her fisted hand was pressed against her temple, propping her head up. The blanket from the foot of the bed had fallen from around her shoulders, pooling in her lap. Ana's hair was a magnificent rain of dark fire, and Felix tried to ignore the itch in his fingers to greedily run his fingers through the strands. Squatting down, he looked at her face a moment, enjoying the expression of peace and quiet that surrounded her like an aura. Studying the chair, Felix felt his brow furrow. She'd wake up stiff and sore tomorrow; they had lots of ground to cover, and Felix needed her running like a champ if he was going to pull off the feat he was planning. Straightening in one smooth move, Felix stood and moved silently to the bed, drawing back the covers and smoothing the sheets. Returning to the chair, he gently gathered the sleeping woman in his arms, cursing himself for his wayward thoughts as he settled her weight in his arms.

For a moment, Felix stood still, afraid Ana would awaken. But, after shifting slightly and gripping the lapel of his jacket, Ana quieted. She was smooth and sleek, and her wild hair was going everywhere. Clenching his teeth against the soft scent that emanated from Ana's skin, Felix strode smoothly to the bed, doing his best to ignore the feel and shape of her. Settling her onto the mattress as softly as he could, Felix felt his breath catch as she again shifted and made some soft sound of waking that went straight to his gut, terrified that he had jostled her awake. This could be awkward, and damn near impossible to explain.

But Ana settled, and was again still and quiet as Felix carefully unlocked her fingers from his jacket. It took more willpower than he cared to examine to draw the covers up, tucking them in securely as much for her benefit as for his reminder. Untouchable. Completely. Moving back to the chair, Felix dropped down heavily, exhausted by his constant guarding against his desire for Ana. He couldn't mark the exact moment when she had started appealing to his senses, but it was proving to be more draining than the most advanced of magic. However, his night was far from done, and Felix leaned forward reluctantly, resting his elbows on his knees as his limp hands hung down, his eyes focused intently on the fire as he shoved over the copper tub with his foot.

Pushing a bit of his spirit into the receptive fire with a wave of his hand while he smoothed the transition by a few choice, old words, Felix narrowed his eyes as a small dark blotch, floating like a black bubble amidst the flames, appeared and widened until about the size of a large platter. The images within the disk's bounds sharpened, a bird's eye view of the country side, whizzing to a campfire glowing in the nearby woods. The tired Arsalans were gathered around the fire, a portal much like the one Felix had opened in his hearth glowing in the midst of their ring of stones as they delivered their report to their mistress. Felix felt a grim tug at his lips as he heard Apollo's shrill reprimand of her men, her insults creative and eyebrow-raising. He dimly wondered where the nobly raised woman had learned such language.

Carefully focusing his view as he sat up straight, unfolding his spine from its bend, Felix brought Apollo's visage into clear resolution. A stunning woman, blond of hair and blue of eyes, Apollo looked just like what she was—a beautiful, well-bred, wealthy woman. She had her mother's regal features, and her father's money. She had once pursued Felix, and he had enjoyed their relationship with the wide-eyed awe of a young man learning of women from the tutelage of an exquisite specimen. However, that was about a decade ago, and Apollo now represented women at their most determined and venomous. The fact that her men had hunted his charge made his desire to stay away from her all the stronger. The score they had to settle stayed strictly between them; there was no need to drag Ana into their long-standing challenge.

Felix tried to discern Apollo's words, bitten off like bitter medicine in a normally smooth, seductive voice that had grown sharp and strident. "I chose you for your skill, and this is how you repay me? By letting them escape? If your reports have _any_ accuracy what so ever, then the prize you let slip through your fingers was one worth killing for!" Felix bit back a growl, trying to remain focused as he listened to Apollo continuing to rant. "And not to mention you let Felix get away! I'll have the man's head on a block when I found out who tried to shoot him. Any harm he comes to will be by my hand only, is that so difficult to understand?" Her final shriek echoed into the night, leaving her men white-faced and stiff. Satisfied that there was little else to be said, Felix started to withdraw when the stunning face within the portal suddenly whipped in his direction, the grin crossing Apollo's face almost terrifying.

"Hello, Felix. How kind of you to join us," she said, her tone again dropping to her customary honey-laced decibel. Declaring himself an utter, careless idiot, Felix fixed a small, knowing smile on his face, his mind racing to again even the playing field.

"Apollo. It's been a blissfully long time. What's this I hear about you longing for a prize? Worth killing for, you say? I sincerely doubt that," he muttered smoothly, a small part of him gratified by the darkening in Apollo's perfect eyes.

"So, it's true," Apollo growled, her lush mouth turning hard as she pinned almost glowing eyes on Felix from hundreds of miles away. "You found the crossing child. Tell me, does she live up to the grandeur of the spectacle?" Switching to an enticing, teasing tone, Apollo sent him a small grin similar to the one Felix had planted on his face. One of the reasons he had left her in the first place, Felix had always struggled against her swift, almost insane mood swings. "Or was she a disappointment?" the woman continued suddenly. When Felix didn't answer, deeming any response a foolish one no matter what he said, Apollo took it as some sort of confirmation.

"To be saddled with such a thing," she murmured sympathetically. "I hear the creature is quite plain. Really, Felix, you're meant for better than that."

"What, like you?" he said in a scoffing tone, relieved to see Apollo's predator eyes narrow. "Sorry, I've tasted your wares, and found them wanting, as I've told you many times before." Felix braced himself for the explosion of fury, the barrage of insults. He saw them brewing in those forget-me-not blue eyes. So it was all the more shocking when she murmured instead, "What if I present an offer I just know you can't refuse?"

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Ana had been sleeping soundly when the sound of low voices gently tugged her from her slumber. Blinking sleepily, she lay still in confusion as her surroundings slowly started to seep into her foggy brain. She had fallen asleep on the chair, hadn't she? So… oh. She was on the bed. Ana sparred with the idea for a moment before enough neurons fired to make the obvious visible. Felix must have put her in bed. Touched and a little embarrassed—she was hardly a child to be tucked in—it took a moment before she focused again on the voices emanating from the hearth. Ana stiffened when she finally became aware that Felix's voice wasn't the only one in the exchange. Her spine clicked tight when she heard a low, female voice murmur, "What if I present an offer I just know you can't refuse?" Her mind running quickly, Ana soon realized that she had heard Felix's distinctive voice refer to the stranger as Apollo. Christ, he was chatting with the Lady Witch! Was she here, in the room? Muscles frozen tight and her breath locked in her lungs, Ana desperately listened to the conversation unfolding by the fireplace as she lay defenseless on the bed.

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Just insulted enough to contemplate playing the game, Felix decided that it would be worth the trouble to construct a lovely little world under Apollo's just to rip it away as she started to reach. Worth killing for, indeed. "What exactly did you have in mind?" he murmured in what he hoped was a smooth, interested tone of voice. Felix didn't miss the flash of triumph in Apollo's eyes, and hoped that his ploy would continue to work. It was the least she deserved.

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When Ana heard Felix's husky reply, she was surprised at the tears that soured her throat and crowded her eyes. But she had trusted Felix, with her very life. Now, he was willing to bargain her away. For how much, Ana wondered. How highly did he prize her life? Well, she wouldn't be around to find out. Her mind working quickly, Ana did what she did best: she made a list. She had lost her ally to the dark side; it was time to get on the move. She just had to be certain that she didn't get caught.

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"For the small price of returning to the academy and turning the crossing child over to me, I'll see to it that you live in comfort rivaling that of the king himself for the rest of your days. You have so much promise, Felix. There's no need for you to waste it mucking about the countryside in an archaic tradition. We have so much to teach you. Don't throw all that knowledge away for some plain little slip of a girl to whom you owe nothing." Felix had to hand it to her; Apollo's alluring tone would have worked on any man but him. And her offers weren't completely beyond the realm of the desirable. Her only mistake was that she assumed his loyalty to Ana to be as shallow as her own. Drawing the game out, Felix worked a blasé, moderately interested expression into the muscles of his face.

"Perhaps you've piqued my interest, Apollo. But you'll have to do better than that." The flirty frown that crossed her face sent shivers up his spine, but Felix held his expression tight and controlled.

"What exactly did you have in mind, Felix? I assure you, no price you name is too high."

"It's enticing, I have to admit." Pausing like a professional, Felix allowed the edgy silence to spin on briefly before continuing. "But you should be careful making promises like that, Apollo. You don't know where they'll lead you." Felix murmured with a lifted brow. He leaned forward, settling his elbows on his knees with long fingers laced as he relaxed back down, leaning intimately toward the fire and Apollo's smirking façade. He grinned back, enjoying the look of triumph on her face, the very expression that was about to be torn away. Apollo thought she knew him; she was about to be grievously mistaken.

"Or how disappointed you'll be when your extravagant offer is tossed back in your face. I don't belong to you, Apollo—and don't think I'm stupid enough not to know that's exactly what entails your little offer. You can't own me, intimidate me, or seduce me. At this rate, all you're really capable of is infuriating me. I'd tell you where to shove your precious offer, but I think you could word it more eloquently and filthily than I ever could." Her face was gradually darkening and tightening, and Felix had seen little so satisfying.

"The crossing child is my charge," Felix declared quietly, the anger in his voice a tangible frost lacing the air. Felix had to mentally check against his first instinct to use Ana's name. The less Apollo knew, the safer Ana would be. Few knew the power of a name better than a wizard. "She has earned more loyalty from me in one day than you managed in two years. Think about that the next time you send some of your mercenaries my way. I won't be so gentle with them next time," he said venomously as he ruthlessly straightened his back, unaware of how his cobalt eyes shot sparks of heat, pricking at Apollo's determined courage. Ruthlessly breaking the strands of contact no matter the cost of the pain wiring through the blood in his shoulder, Felix waited until only a few tenuous contacts held the image in the fire before withdrawing the silver card from the pocket of his coat.

It had been slipped there by one of the farmers earlier that evening, and Felix had been aware of it the very second its edges touched his clothes. But, feigning ignorance, he had continued throughout the evening without so much as a brush of his fingers against that pocket. Now, he traced his fingers against the spell engraved in the stiff parchment, ignoring the burning sensation working its way under his skin. Once, long ago, the Witch of the Waste had delivered a similar gift to his father. It was a common enough charm, but it was personalized by the inscription, "Watch your back. I will have you, and that plain wench of a crossing child, soon enough. That's a guarantee," worked into the scorch marks.

"The next time you want to give me a present, hand it to me yourself. Charming," he murmured looking at the card again, his smile gleaming metallically in the leap of flames as a slow spirit wind caught his hair and lifted its short strands slowly. "You always did have a way with words, Apollo. Until next time, then," he said with a crushing tone of finality as he tossed the shadow card into the fire. A small black plume erupted with a squeal, and Felix could hear Apollo's scream of frustration and rage as the contact snapped and the souls of the connectors came rushing back to their owners.

Felix was knocked back into the chair, his head bouncing off the rigid wooden back so hard he saw stars dance for a moment in his eyes. He swallowed hard against the bile that scorched its way up his throat, pressing his eyes closed as he slowly and ruthlessly shut down the pain careening along his nerve endings. Portals normally weren't that painful, but when you were brutally tired and utterly determined to make a point and grand exit, they could be excruciating. The soul was fragile, and reacted badly to rough use in magic. As his conscious thought processes restarted, it suddenly occurred to Felix that Ana might have heard something of the exchange. Levering himself up by the back of the chair, he squinted into the darkness at the dark form encased in blankets on the bed, watching carefully for any movement.

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It took Ana a moment to realize what exactly had occurred in Felix's conversation with their enemy. He hadn't been agreeing with her; he'd been toying with her. A little surprised at the immense levels of relief her heart was pumping into her blood, Ana allowed herself a small sigh of relief and a tight smirk. Bitch. She clearly didn't know Felix at all. It didn't occur to Ana that, considering she had met him only today, it was implausible for her to know more about the man. Some people you knew your whole life, no matter how long you had actually been aware of their presence. Settling deeper into the quickly warming blankets, Ana slipped back to sleep, her eyes drifting close with the comfort and ease of the protected.

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Taking time to be certain that Ana was still asleep, Felix flopped back into the chair with relief, shaking his hand ruefully against the burn that still skimmed just under his skin. It would fade in time; until then, he just had to ignore it. Toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket and waistcoat, Felix folded his legs up onto the chair, tucking the blanket under his knees and draping it over his shoulders. Leaning back against the hard chair back, he watched the fire contemplatively, trying to run through his plan for the next day. But the fatigue combined with the throbbing in his shoulder soon claimed Felix, and, instinctively adopting the position Ana had been in while she had slept on the chair, his eyes drifted close, the crystal around his neck flashing once before the room fell silent.

It was a good silence, one of faith and relief. Trust was shaky, but established. The two people in the room could now be certain that the other wouldn't sell or abandon them, and little encouraged deeper sleep in such strange circumstances. Here, as the magician and the stranger slept on, a bond started to form, one that had been over twenty years in the making. Here, in this quiet tavern room, magic swirled and concentrated. It was both the enchantment of skill and destiny, and it was only just beginning to take shape.

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_Ok, that was a long chapter. Much apologies. However, the jumping back and forth and Felix and Ana's thoughts on the conversation on whether or not the other was aware of their awareness makes me giggle. It was a unique style for me, and I'm pretty happy how it came out. Felix is such a good guy, taking the hard, uncomfy chair. Just to clarify, Felix is sitting Indian style at the end of the chapter. Ana was sort of sprawled over it, but they're both holding their heads up the same way. So, intro is over. The action is coming up. I promise we're not going to spend any more time in Luxton; the ball is about to start rolling. Old friends and new connections are going to start popping up with a vengeance, and I'm going to start a very brief, very broken-up review of the movie. Technically, it's for Ana, but if any of you guys are rusty on the details, I'll be bringing up some of my favorites. A cookie goes to anyone who can guess the title's reference/allusion. Hope you like it!_


	6. Finger Snap

Ch 6: Finger Snap

Ana surfaced slowly, as the deeply sleeping often do. It took a moment to realize that the bolt slicing through her eyelids was actually sunlight, and a pretty benign and weak beam at that. Sighing contently, she scrubbed the sleep from her eyes with one hand while the other was flung out across the sheets as she slowly started the fire between her ears. Blinking with a slothful reflection, Ana propped herself up on her elbows just as the door slid soundlessly open, admitting Felix in all his cloaked splendor.

If the sight of a tall, gorgeous man with Black Irish coloring wearing a long, flowing black coat didn't wake a woman up, then she didn't have a pulse. Abruptly, Ana's mouth started to water, and she softly cleared her throat, trying to distract herself from her hungry assessment of the lines and angles of Felix's physique. Hell, why be coy? She was pretty shamelessly checking out her savior, and if she didn't curb that behavior soon, things would get pretty awkward between the two of them just when they needed to start gliding along smoothly.

He had heard the small sound she made, and glanced over from his handful of supplies he was spreading on the small desk to flash her a small, distracted smile that almost knocked her flat. "Good, you're awake," he said in a soft, low voice. Awake? She was thrumming like a damn plucked string, wondering glumly how a man could be so damn pretty while maintaining his utter masculinity? Some things in life just weren't fair.

Managing a lame, "Yeah," Ana feigned sleepiness as an excuse for her mediocre response. Forcing a yawn she didn't quite feel, Ana took the time to bring her system back under control and her balance back to equilibrium. She felt change in the air, and the fact that Felix was wearing his travelling cloak signaled that they would soon be on the move. It was time to have her wits about her.

"Are we leaving today?" Ana murmured, sweeping the blankets aside as she swung her feet to the cold planks. Her toes curled briefly in protest to the chill, but Ana rose and hurried over to her small stack of Earth clothes, crouching down on the far side of the tall chair in front of the fire.

"We'll be out of Luxton as soon as we're ready," Felix responded. "I still have a few things to get in order, which will give you time to pack up." His tone was distracted and a little cool as he sorted through the bundles of what Ana assumed was food and supplies. Watching the graceful deliberation of Felix's long-fingered hands for a moment, Ana ruthlessly returned her attention to her possessions.

Pawing through her clothes for her small roll of socks, Ana froze as she helplessly watched her father's letter drift free, swaying over the floor like an autumn leaf coyly dancing in a smooth breeze until it settled on the floorboards, well in Felix's line of sight. Glancing again over at the man by the desk, Ana'a stomach lurched as he slowly started to turn her way, leading with his shoulders, his fingers rippling over the objects on the desk in a final mental tally. _NO!_ her brain screamed. Ana wasn't ready for Felix to know about the letter—she had yet to come to terms with it herself, and wasn't prepared to share the burden and divulge herself of that heavy secret quite yet.

As graceful as a dancer, Ana launched to her feet, twisted mid-air, and plopped on her butt with her feet splayed, the roll of her socks clenched in her hand—the letter completely hidden under her butt. The streak of erratic movement had drawn Felix's attention finally, and he lifted a brow inquisitively. Ana threw him a bright smile as she shoved her icy feet into her socks. His gaze flicked to her pile of disturbed clothing, and a small frown dug a furrow between his soaring brows.

"Let me get a pack for your things. I'll be back in a moment," he said before gliding out like a hawk on sable wings. Holding her breath until the door clicked close, Ana loosed the torrent of air as her shoulders slumped in relief. Bracing a hand on the floor behind her, Ana arched her back, slipping the letter out from under her rear. Smoothing it thoughtfully, she folded it carefully before tucking it into her jeans pocket.

Taking to her feet, Ana started to finger-comb her sleep-wrecked hair when she noticed the brush on the small table next to the chair. It looked to be made of bone, intricately scrolled in a strange version of Celtic knots along the back. Grateful for the tool, she tamed her hair back into a high ponytail, again whispering a silent prayer of thanks for the hair-tie that had survived the trip with her. Adjusting her clothes as best she could, Ana was just loosening the laces on her boots when Felix entered the room.

"Here," he muttered shortly, and Ana looked up to see a brown coat and a hat faintly resembling a page boy's cap, also a non-descript shade of brown. Hanging from his other hand was a small pack. Ana offered him a smile and thanks as she accepted his gifts, but his mouth stayed immobile and his eyes distant. Frowning at his back, Ana turned back to her shoes, packing her bag once done. After donning her coat and tucking her hair up into the hat, Ana tossed a look at the cracked mirror. She looked like a skinny boy, totally unremarkable and forgettable. It was perfect, as far as disguises went, and utterly depressing. To look like a male youth was not the effect Ana was shooting for, but it was the most likely to get her out of Luxton alive. So she swallowed the bitterness in her throat and turned to Felix.

"What's the plan?" she asked brightly, slinging her pack over her shoulder. He glanced up from his own impossibly small pack. Ana didn't like how hard his eyes seemed, but didn't comment, nor did she say anything when he flicked a finger at the small candle flickering over by the bed. She took note of how the flame was extinguished without a sound, and felt her mouth thin.

"As we leave town, we'll draw the Arsalans on our trail. From there, we move as fast as we can south. I know somewhere safe where we can regroup while we decide how to get you home." After his succinct summary, Felix swung his pack onto his back, opening the door cautiously. After determining that the halls were deserted, he stepped out, jerking his head to indicate to Ana that she was to follow him. "Head down the stairs to your left. Wait for me out back," he whispered quietly before swirling down the steep staircase to their right. Taking a deep breath, Ana tread as carefully as she could manage down the back stairs, emerging in the small courtyard that opened into the stables. The air was laced strongly with the scent of horses and all they entailed, the straggly bushes and few withered, determined flowers decorating the small square of earth. Ana leaned back against the brick wall, propping up her left foot while scooting her hat forward on her lowered head. She hoped that the image she projected was one of a disinterested youth just passing through. Inside, Ana's heart thudded like a drum in her throat. She hadn't been waiting long when she heard the click of boots quickly striding towards her.

"Come on," Felix commanded in a tone that bordered on brusque as he rounded the building's corner. Unfolding herself from the wall quickly, Ana trailed in his wake. Tugging her hat lower reflexively, Ana carefully scanned the streets as they broke from the cover of the alleys and strode down the main street. With the exception of an occasional twitch of home-spun curtains hanging in the cottages' windows, everything was still. The sun was struggling through a thick net of clouds, and as Felix drew up the hood of his cloak, Ana hugged her coat tighter, stuffing her already chilled hands into her pockets. She was fully aware that the most difficult part of their escape had yet to come, and the thought did nothing to warm her.

When Felix had coolly explained their escape plan earlier, Ana had initially balked. Why in heaven's name would they willingly draw the Arsalans' onto their trail? They were clearly keen on killing Felix, yet he intended to invite their attention to their escape. Her thoughts had quickly rammed into the source of his reasoning as she had slunk down the inn's back stairs. The fear and blood had been pounding so loud in her head, she had barely been able to hear, but Ana still remembered the Arsalans' threat against the village Felix had called Luxton. If she and Felix disappeared without a trace, Luxton would be burned to the group, possibly condemning every one of its citizens with it.

Glancing at the small, hardy structures that guarded the street with the weary patience of old men, Ana was surprised at the tears that stung her eyes as she envisioned bright, voracious flames lapping at the age-darkened beams. Screams accompanying the vision cut through her head, and Ana's jaw clicked together as she willed the entirely too vivid image back. Under no circumstances would her fear be the cause of such a massacre. Ana determinedly picked up her pace until she was abreast with Felix, not noticing the mildly surprised and dismayed glance he covertly tossed her way. The sooner the two of them got the hell out of Luxton, the safer the small town would be.

The streets were deserted—Ana assumed that the people were either out working their fields and tending to their livestock or tucked warmly inside their small cottages. It wasn't much of a surprise; the cold air was only getting colder, and Ana was soon grateful for the hard pace Felix was setting. She had assumed he was as much a stranger to the town as she was, considering he was staying at the tavern, but Felix picked his path with ease and confidence. The man clearly knew where he was going.

They soon left the faint sprawl of civilization and slipped into the shadows of the forest. It was colder under the shade of the pines, and a little more threatening for it than it had appeared yesterday. Yet even here, life shimmered and endured.

A brindled squirrel tramping along a branch froze at their approach, then chattered and scolded the trespassers with the pointed irritation of a mother. A strange bird high above their heads, appearing to be a cross between a hawk and an owl, adjusted long black wings with a flap, revealing their strikingly snowy undersides. He clicked his mildly curved beak in warning, then bent his head to groom his blue-speckled chest. A giant elk with silver dapples over his rump bounded by, followed by his doe sporting a sprinkling of spots over the bridge of her nose that looked like freckles and their twin fawns, both wearing faint stripes that reminded Ana of tigers. A small gecko the color of hellfire rippled across a rock into a weak beam of sun before his skin fluttered and he completely disappeared. Ana blinked, and recognized that the tricks of the chameleon in her world had traveled to this plane as well.

"So how are we going to attract the Arsalans' attention?" Ana murmured quietly, instinctively hesitant to break the breathing silence of the forest. Felix didn't slow his pace for the explanation; if anything, his stride lengthened. Somewhere deep in Ana's heart, a quiet part of her consciousness still sleeping from repression, became aware of Felix's heightened heart rate, the muscle contractions in his eyes as his pupils dilated. Consciously, Ana knew nothing of this awareness; deep inside, she could feel the rush of the hunter start to sink into Felix's blood.

"Arsalans are cavalry men—as you saw yesterday, they depend on their horses like you or I depend on air. We'll just remove them of their precious animals while reminding them of our presence. They'll be busy chasing after their horses, which will gain us a lead, meanwhile infuriating them enough to distract them from Luxton." Ana remembered how he had affected the Arsalans' horses yesterday. If it worked, why change it? She just hoped none of the men were fast enough to palm their shiny silver pistols before she and Felix established a comfortable, or at least survivable, distance.

Swallowing the nerves that skated along her spine and filtered into her throat, Ana instinctively shifted closer to Felix. When he mirrored her shift to maintain the distance between them, Ana's eyes narrowed as her hands curled into fists in her pockets. After a calming breath, Ana reined back her irritation and, deep down, the hurt at his obvious rejection. She had no idea what had changed between the two of them since yesterday, but Ana would be damned if the sun rose again before she found out what exactly Felix had a problem with. If he was tired of her tagging along, so be it. But he wouldn't freeze her out—it was under-handed, and all too familiar a tactic.

Ana could see a clearing starting to take form through the trees, bare deciduous aspens threading their ashen bones through the pine needles and scaly branches of the black evergreens that smelled of Scotland. Forcefully batting back her negative emotions, Ana settled her stomach and started to bring more of her weight to her toes. Silently following Felix closer to the clearing, Ana squinted against the cold as forms shuffling in the small den began to take shape.

Two of the men were awake, hauling water from the trickle of water to the west back to the banked fire in the center of the clearing. The others were still asleep, curled in their bed rolls. The pair that were awake looked exhausted, their attention and guards edging into the gray area of initial activation. In short, it was perfect timing. Silently kneeling next to Felix next to a thick hedge of bushes, she watched with interested eyes as he slipped three sheets of brown paper from the voluminous folds of his cloak. Laying them on the ground next to one another, he smoothed his hands over them, taking a deep breath through his nose. Ana watched, fascinated, as Felix's hair slowly lifted on a silent breeze, his eyes intent and blazing bright. His long fingers traced small, intricate patterns on each of the pieces of paper, the lines briefly glowing orange. Suddenly, as if they had been electrocuted, the papers each folded themselves up into some strange origami shapes with frenzied clicks and shuffles. They finished, standing at the ready, their pincers restlessly waving with their thin legs splayed. Faintly resembling crabs, Ana watched with wide eyes as Felix removed a small vial from the depths of his cloak.

Uncorking it with a faint _pop_, he blew gently over the neck of the clear crystal before pouring a single drop on each of the paper crabs. At the touch of the clear, jelly-like liquid, each little creature shivered, and then scuttled away through the bushes.

Gesturing subtly to follow him, Felix led Ana to a stand of aspens, slipping silently through the foliage, turning to watch the little brown creatures dart in and out of the undergrowth to the melody of the clacking branches above. They wove their way over to the log where the horses were tied, many snoozing with a back leg cocked. It wasn't long before the little minions started sawing at the horses' tethers. A few started awake, but they just shuffled restlessly and dropped back into a doze.

Ana tracked the brown crabs' movements with hunter eyes, who went about their task with ninja-like stealth. It was only a matter of minutes until all the horses stood utterly loose. A small ripple shuddered down Ana's spine as the final thread of the last tether snapped, and the little crabs came racing back to Felix's feet. Squatting down, he tapped each of the paper creatures once. The magicked workers busily unfolded themselves until they were once again only three sheets of brown paper, the lines glowing a faint blue before they too died. Slipping the papers back into his cloak, Felix stepped out of the shade of the aspen grove, striding fully into the view of the Arsalans' camp. After a split-second decision, Ana raced after him. They were together, and his claim on the Arsalans' attention would be all the more credible if they actually saw her.

Stopping just on the other side of the hedges that formed a partial perimeter around the grove, Felix rolled his bottom lip back between his teeth and loosed a whistle that made Ana's eyes water. Distantly, she enviously wished for the skill, and watched with a pinch of humor over Felix's tall left shoulder as a dozen men shot awake, groggy, disoriented, and comical—but for the fact that Ana knew good and well that they wielded guns, and were fair shots. The horses also jolted awake, but they either weren't spooked by a whistle, or something was holding them calm and still.

"Gentlemen!" Felix called, waiting until the last pair of foggy, squinting eyes focused on him before bending into a grand bow. "In response to the challenge issued yesterday, I have come to inform you I accept your venture. I must warn you, though, I already have a headstart." His tone didn't change, but Ana saw out of the corner of her eye his right hand raise, his fingers curled into the position characteristic of a snap. "And so, gentlemen," Felix paused dramatically, and his snap, clean and clear, echoed like lightning across the clearing. "The hunt has begun."

Ana sensed the moment crystallize, drawing and bounding beyond itself. Every breath was held, every eye cemented to the cloaked figure with the upraised arm at the edge of the clearing, the echo of the snap still resonating from his hand. Ever so quietly, Ana exhaled her held breath, and the ice freezing the second shattered. To the melody of horses' screaming, all hell broke loose.

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_Sorry this took so long!! I've been weathering some pretty strong right jabs from life, and creativity was the last thing I could do. But I figured that this poor chapter needed finishing. It's shorter than I had intended, but it felt right to stop here for now. This'll allow me to delve really deeply into Felix, his attitude, and the reasons behind it. I enjoy writing Ana's magical talent's awakening; it's slow, especially right now. But it'll start accelerating, and will skyrocket when they get to their destination. All in good time. Right now, the magician has again proven himself both a talented mage and a drama queen—just like his dad!! Gosh, it makes me so happy when I realize that my intentions worked. Hope you like it!!_


	7. Arguments and Storytelling

Ch 7: Arguments and Storytelling

Felix watched, satisfied, as the horses took off, melting into the shadows of the forest with trilling calls and raised tails. He had to consciously check against the impulse to grab Ana's hand, and spun away, hoping that she was paying attention and would stay right on his tail. Felix's plan had worked as well as he had hoped. The Arsalans would never forgive him for such an insult, and they now possessed double the incentive to stay hot on his and Ana's trail, leaving Luxton in safety.

Quickly orienting himself with what little he could see of the sun through the leaves and clouds, Felix set his course, heading south. He was heading into the Ruby Forest after all, but they would soon change their direction to cross its north-western edges. Friends lay in that land—he wouldn't know their exact location until they were closer. Right now, however, Felix and Ana had to put as much distance between them and the enraged Arsalans as possible. Luck and a bit of magic had sent the horses racing in the exact opposite direction that he and Ana were now headed.

Ducking under a low hanging branch, Felix leapt over a log, utterly relieved when he heard Ana's hard breath behind her. Her feet thudded as she landed only seconds behind Felix, moving with the fluidity of a shadow. His mind constantly revolving, Felix checked their direction again, and subtly adjusted their course more westerly. The sounds of the enraged soldiers gradually faded, until all Felix could hear were the war drums of his beating blood and the steady tandem of their racing feet.

Living with the gifts of a wizard imbued Felix with certain abilities—a greater tolerance for pain, longer endurance, and sharpened senses were among them. Perhaps that was why it didn't immediately occur to him that the hard pace he had set would wear out the fittest of mortals within 300 meters. The whoosh and suck of Ana's breath behind him was growing more jagged and shallow, yet she didn't complain or slow. Felix slowed his speed almost instantly upon realization of how his pace must tax Ana's strength. However, she must have not been expecting it, as she nearly ran into him. Ana's reflexes were quick enough that she just bumped into Felix's left shoulder with her right, and stood several paces in front of him, forcefully keeping her posture straight while she panted, looking to Felix for direction.

For a moment, Felix was a little overwhelmed by the trust she placed in his hands. How could he ever repay such faith? Comforting, proud words were on the tip of his tongue—after all, Ana was paying attention beautifully, and learning quickly what life required of her now—but Felix quickly bit them back as images from the night before flashed through his head, pictures of violence and blood splashing scarlet blotches of pain across his mind's eye. It took all Felix had to stop the physical jerk that instinctively screamed along his nerves, and instead ground his teeth before turning firmly away.

"Come on—we still have a lot of ground to cover." Felix threw the gravel of brusqueness into his voice as he turned away, too quick to see the hardening in Ana's dark emerald eyes. He set off again, keeping his pace slow and steady. Ana stayed right behind him, and they soon passed into the heavy, dark areas of the forest as it spread southwards. Wildlife was more plentiful here, but far more shy. Felix could sense the dappled elk, cobalt eagles, and a stealthy few striker wolves among the depths of the forest's heart, but even his sharp eyes couldn't see a flash of hide in what little dappled light struggled through the heavy foliage.

Instead, there was a breath of presence, like a shiver of awareness up the spine. Felix could feel the heartbeats of the animals in the tips of his fingers and the depths of his throat. But much, much stronger was the presence of the woman following him. It wasn't just the rhythm of her heartbeat thrumming up and down his spine like chimes, but her leveling breath rate brushed along his skin like fog.

It was rare that Felix was this utterly aware of another human being—this reaction was usually reserved to powerful individuals, a reaction doubled when the person in question was emotionally close to him. And while he could sense the vast amount of power she had living just under her skin, Felix was well aware that Ana was in no terms trained or under control. She had no way to manifest what lived in her blood and mind, and so shouldn't affect him so strongly. Not to mention, Felix had known Ana for all of two days—it was ludicrous that he would feel an emotional connection strong enough to elicit such an awareness after so short a period of time. Besides, he had no business even entertaining the idea of becoming emotionally attached to Ana; he had been warned thoroughly the price of such careless and selfish actions.

Unconsciously, Felix lengthened his stride, which in turn forced Ana to hurry her pace as well. It wasn't until he heard a muffled thump that Felix was roused out of his determined march. Turning around, his eyebrows lifted to see Ana splayed out of the ground. His eyes moving quickly, Felix decided that she must have tripped over an arcoak's protruding root. Ana snatched up her fallen hat, ramming it back over her fiery hair. Felix backtracked, offering a hand to help her stand. She glanced up at him, at his hand, and instead pushed up off her knees.

Ana murmured, "I'm fine," brushing herself off with impatient strikes at her clothes before stomping off. Felix was too busy wrestling with his feelings of rejection and relief to notice the embarrassed stain that rode high on Ana's porcelain cheekbones. Shaking his head, Felix quickly followed her, retaking his lead, but careful to keep his pace moderate.

The patterned continued throughout the day, with little to no words spared between the two. It was awkward, but both were enjoying a self-satisfied righteousness with their silence. Felix was doing this for their safety; Ana was doing this for their pride. It seemed worth it.

At least, until night fell, and Felix was busy keeping his eyes sharp for a good place to make camp. Finally, just as the sun painted the horizon in bloody red and simmering bronze, he chose a small grove enclosed by aspens and pines, quiet and near the gurgling stream. Stomping over the rim of bushes, he circled the perimeter, echoing for any spy spells or traps. Deeming the clearing safe and clean, he then circled again, this time casting a protective circle, returning to the center of the clearing at each of the points of the cardinal directions. There was a brief yellow glow, like a small sun, that soared outward like a bowl. Just when it reached the tops of the trees, it paused, then rushed back, bringing protection and luck with it. Despite its grand appearance, the protection spell was a basic one, and Felix was still fresh enough to feel no pain or exhaustion as a result.

He knelt at the center of the clearing to build a fire circle, glancing up once to command Ana to gather kindling as he arranged the stones. For a moment, he thought she hadn't heard him. Glancing up, Felix was surprised to see Ana's lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. Just when he was about to repeat himself, she stalked off, her shoulders high and tight. Guilt twisted a little deeper in his gut, but Felix forced himself to resettle to the task at hand. It was for the best. He had to be certain of that. The thought helped, but didn't ease the grimace from his face.

Felix would have jumped when Ana noisily dropped an armful of small sticks and branches right next to him if he hadn't sensed her coming. She was getting quieter, almost as if movement in the forest was instinctive for her. If Felix hadn't been so attuned to Ana, he would have looked like an idiot. As it was, he reacted fast enough to garner a small smirk from Ana, his head whipping around with speed enough to make his eyesight sparkle.

Briefly tempted to gleefully agree to full-out war of wills, the mage ground his teeth and turned his eyes back to his chore. The ring was complete, but he perfected the formation to give himself time to compose himself. Felix would have preferred to keep the reasons for his distance to himself, but Ana clearly wasn't taking it well. If they were to survive the journey, she couldn't constantly garner her revenge at his expense. She had to be told. But how to word such a… strange situation?

"Sit down, Ana." When she remained utterly still, Felix heaved a sigh. "Please." She dropped down, her long legs folding in under her.

"That wasn't so hard to ask nicely, was it?" she asked, her smooth, low voice just edging into snarky territory. Drawing air through his nose heavily, Felix reared back his head, troubled when her verdant eyes didn't flicker under his gaze. He knew only two people who could survive that glare, and that was because their blood had bequeathed the ability to him in the first place. Turning his heavy, powerful gaze to the small tent of wood he had stacked within the rim of rough stones before him, Felix was dismayed and embarrassed when fire erupted from the wood as if it had been struck by lightning.

Felix's control was usually more finite and implacable; this kind of sloppiness discredited his training and his legacy. Praying that something, anything, would go right this evening, Felix intently lowered the flames to a more pleasant crackle before turning his eyes back to Ana's, careful to keep his gaze gentle, if not a little cool. That she hadn't reacted before was surprising, but Felix decided not to dwell on it.

"No, it wasn't. Yet despite what you may believe of me, I had good intentions."

"Hell is paved with good intentions," Ana threw back, her expression stony and unforgiving. It was time to start talking, and quickly, if Felix was to preserve any glimmer of friendship that had arisen between them. For some strange reason, it made him almost ill to think of the connection between them bitter and dry. However, that wave of nausea battled against another sheparded by his vision from the night before. Felix knew he had a choice—Ana's friendship, or her life. The decision had seemed so obvious to him the night before; however, it was only now that he realized that it wasn't his to make. It was up to Ana as to what he must sacrifice. Her answer was obvious. Felix was only going through this painful conversation to alleviate his guilty conscience and his heavy pride. Repeating this mantra in his brain, Felix began to describe what had haunted him the night before.

"A wizard's dreams are nothing to be taken lightly, Ana. Some of us have the gift of sight, but it only manifests in our sleep." Felix decided to leave out the fact that a far fewer number of wizards, so few that Felix only knew of one in his acquaintance, saw with such a regular clarity that their visions should be taken with credence. Felix usually disregarded his dreams—he didn't have Diane's gift, and he had learned long ago the hard way that fate presented far too many paths for a wizard's vague gift of dream sight to be used as any sort of guide.

"You saw the future last night," Ana stated flatly, her eyebrow raised and her eyes glittering with a hard sort of shine. Her skepticism surprised Felix. She had so easily accepted the other magic she had seen and been told of before, it was strange that she chose now to take his words with a grain of salt. Then again, she might have accepted his words under the light of trust—now that Felix believed it gone, he could see that she had reverted to her world's mind set. And for some reason, that irritated the hell out of Felix.

"Yes, Ana. I did. The meaning was clear enough. If I connect myself to you, it would be at the cost of your life." Felix cleared his throat around the knot that wound itself tighter and tighter. Just remembering it with enough clarity to explain it took Felix's breath away; his lungs wanted to collapse under the weight of his dream's blood and screams. Both had poured out of Ana, along with the shine of her life. When he finally met Ana's eyes, her expression was not the one he expected. She looked…angry.

"Your dream claimed that if you became friends with me, I would die as a result." For a moment, she was utterly still, before words burst out of her lips like cracks of lightning. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life!" Felix ground his teeth, and glared at her. Fine. If she didn't believe what he had to say, then she had to be shown. Scooting around the fire, he settled next to Ana, his hand outstretched. She glanced from his hand up to his eyes, and Felix bit back the wave of resentment that threatened to spew out of his mouth in a growl.

Finally she settled her hand in his. Closing his fingers gently around her hand, Felix focused on the form of her tendons and bone as he gathered the specifics of the dream in his mind, and despite the intense pain riddling his skull, kept his grip gentle. Looking up to her eyes, Felix kept the eye contact strong as he gently squeezed her hand. Guilt ripped at him as Ana's eyes slammed shut, her head cracking back as if she had caught a hard punch to the chin. Felix could easily hear her whistling breath as she struggled with the visions painted across the inside of her eyelids, and, despite how much it cost him, closed his eyes to share the pain of the vision. Anything to lessen the blow she was bearing.

The two of them were somewhere dark, and danger crackled in the air like an electric charge. It was dank, the damp of the air seeming to infect the lungs as weak torches provided a sort of discouraged light. Ana kept close to him as he fought off faceless enemy after faceless enemy, both as a mage and as a soldier. There was somewhere they had to go—Felix knew by the intent set on his face and Ana's constant glances over his shoulder to ascertain that they were going the right way. He also knew that the vision Felix was giving everything he had to keep vision Ana safe, fighting much harder than he would have ever been called on to should he have been alone. He pivoted, blocked, struck, and attacked with a sort of vicious consistency, shielding Ana in every instance. In between attacks, they moved as a loping sort of jog, hoping to cover as much ground as possible quietly before the next adversary melted out of the darkness.

When it happened, it happened so fast, even Felix was shocked by the sheer speed. Out of the darkness leaped a black wolf, easily twice as big as a normal striker wolf. Its eyes glowed an unholy red with vertical pupils, its yellow teeth snapping on a roar that shivered along Felix's bones. By the time the vision Felix registered the attack, the animal had already latched its dagger-like teeth on his shoulder, ripping the mage to the ground with a rending sound that made Felix's stomach lurch. Vision Felix's bellow echoed down the dim hallways, and sent vision Ana a few quivering steps back. Blood spattered the nearby granite wall as the animal wrenched his head to one side, vision Felix's flesh still in his teeth's grasp. The damage was extensive, and left untended, would quickly kill him. Felix felt every torn muscle, every drop of lost blood. But the worst came when the wolf released the broken vision Felix, his evil eyes fixing on vision Felix's. Without speaking, the animal's harsh, demonic voice floated across Felix's mind. _What is yours must be mine._

Suddenly, time slowed. After viewing the attack on vision Felix with such speed, the animal's timeless pivot seemed eerie. His new target was Ana. In reality, he moved with as much speed as he had before, not even giving her the time to throw up her hands in defense. But Felix's horror and helplessness slowed the hands of time, drawing vision Ana's final scream out until it echoed into eternity. Great streaks of blood gleamed in the shivering light as the wolf destroyed Ana, her face and throat its main targets. The ruby liquid seemed frozen in the air, splattering against the wall in discernable splashes with an almost balletic grace. As vision Ana's ravaged body started to collapse under the wolf's weight, Felix and Ana were thrown callously out of the vision, landing beside the fire with heaving, whistling breath.

"Good God," Ana whispered through the tears on her face, speaking in hitching rushes, as if the words hurt but pressed against her heart too hard to be left unsaid. "That was… horrific. I felt your pain, and my death. I was in her, yet saw everything from every possible angle. How could you… _function_ after such a thing like this?" Felix could see the epiphany suddenly light her eyes. "This is why you changed. After you defended me from Apollo in the fire, this is why you became so distant. You didn't stop liking me—you were trying to protect me, because of what the wolf said."

Felix was embarrassed by her succinct summary of a decision that had taken him countless sleepless and restless hours, until he realized that she had heard the exchange between him and Apollo. "Wait! You heard that?" Ana waved it aside as if it were nothing, her brow knitting in concentration.

"You weren't exactly quiet, Felix. Of course I heard you." She scrubbed away the tears still wetting her face, her full mouth bowing down as she unwillingly relived the dream. "I can see your reasoning now, flawed as it was."

"My reasoning was not flawed!" Felix said, anger edging his tone to a growl. "The message couldn't have been clearer. If I connect myself to you as a friend, someone who would protect you, it makes you the wolf's target. He won't outright kill me; the wounds will be fatal, but I would survive long enough to see you destroyed. That is the wolf's real intent, to make me suffer in your death. I refuse to have your blood on my hands, Ana, merely because I want to be your friend, protect you and help you!" Felix had shot to his feet sometime during his rampage, his hands clasped behind his back as he paced, his cloak billowing on a wind that wasn't there.

"So you would abandon me to protect me?" Ana asked in a small voice. Her demure volume should have warned Felix, who, in a wiser stage, would have seen the change in volume for what it was. In his current state, however, he reeled on her, glaring at Ana over the top of the flames.

"If that's what it takes, yes! As I said, I will not live my life knowing you're dead because I could not control my emotional wants! I _will_ get you somewhere safe, and I _will_ get you home! If I cannot connect to you in order to accomplish that, so be it!" Crossing his arms over his chest, Felix believed the conversation over. What woman would forgive him and want to remain his friend after such a rampage? However, when Ana shot to her feet, her hands fisted at her sides and her eyes glowing with rage, Felix was a little taken aback.

"And that's it?! You would emotionally abandon me because you believe me to be the helpless damsel you saw in that vision? I've got news for you, mister!" Ana growled as she stomped around the fire to poke his chest with a hard finger. "I'm no coward, and I have never quivered in fear. If we are to fight, then teach me to fight! But if you think that it's acceptable for you to just let me flounder in a world I don't know because you don't want to take the responsibility for my training, you have another thing coming!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" Felix said, his voice just edging into a yell.

"Then protect me! Don't coddle me or abandon me!" Felix ran restless fingers through his hair as he stomped away from Ana, unable to maintain the eye contact that had his stomach twisting. "Make the choice!" she yelled after him.

"It's not my choice to make!" Felix roared as he spun, striding back over to Ana to tower over her in his rage. "It's yours, and you're too thick-headed, stubborn, and proud to make it! End what we have! It's the only way for you to survive!"

"You don't even know me, so don't categorize me into neat adjectives! And can't you open your eyes to see that ending our friendship damns me more than any wolf's attack?!" Felix frowned at the change in Ana's eyes. Anger receded as her emotions leveled, and he found his doing the same. No end would be reached in anger. She just made him so damn furious. When Ana spoke again, her voice had softened.

"I can't count on anyone else, Felix. You know that better than me, perhaps. I'm hunted before people even know my name, and the only person I can place any trust in is you. Please," she whispered as she stepped closer, touching feather-light fingertips to the back of his hand hanging down at his sides, "don't leave me now, just when I need you the most." Felix looked away from her dark eyes, his eyes squinting into the black rimming the clearing as he wrestled with what he knew to be right and what he wanted to be true. Glancing back at her, he raised a hesitant hand to brush back the hair that fell into her eyes.

"Are you sure? There's nothing more I can show you or tell you to dissuade you. It's no question as to the danger you would face," Felix warned. And he had thought that her choice would have been so obvious and simple. Shows how well he knew her.

"In this world, you're all I've got." Felix shook his head at Ana's answer, a small smile playing unwillingly over his lips.

"As you wish, madam." The smile spread across her face slowly, lighting it from her eyes out. Something squirmed in his chest, just under his collarbone, at the warm gratitude in her eyes. He wondered if there was ever a time when his shoulders felt light, unburdened by the responsibility and worry those he held close warranted. Looking into her eyes, and her mind a little, Felix suddenly saw the fear that had riddled her through their argument. Not of death, but of abandonment, rejection. It wouldn't have been the first time she had experienced either. And to think that he had almost scarred her the same way others have before. His old friend guilt stirred, and Felix opened his arms in invitation to make amends for his unintentional damage.

Ana hesitated, and Felix wondered briefly if he had read her wrong. However, he was gratified when she melted into his touch, her slim frame fitting perfectly against his. Ana had made the choice; it was her right. Felix would just have to protect her better than he imagined himself capable.

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As the two of them settled again by the fire and Felix produced two rich brown bread rolls, strips of spicy elk jerky, and a canteen of spring water, they ate for some time in companionable silence. However, after a while, Ana turned to Felix, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of the jerky.

"You mentioned your father as if he were someone I should know. Is he famous?" Felix felt a small grin curve his lips. He had never had the opportunity to tell his parents' story to someone who had never heard of the famous wizard Howl and his wife Sophie before. This should prove interesting.

"My father allotted quite a bit of fame three decades ago. But the real story goes far beyond Howl's actions during the War. Would you like to hear the tale?" At Ana's energetic nod, Felix settled more comfortably, carefully thinking back to the stories and tales that he had heard so many times, it felt like he was there.

"My mother, Sophie, was once a hatter in a small town called Market Chipping far to the south of here, on the edge of the Wastes Proper. One day, when she was about 18 years old, she went to visit her younger sister, Letti, who worked in the bakery. My Aunt Letti now owns Cesari's—some of the best creams puffs ever to be beheld. My mother has never been fond of crowds, and it seemed that everyone in Ingary was busy celebrating the soldiers' departure to glory and honor. After riding on the bus, Sophie went along the back alleys as a short cut. At that time, many of the soldiers recruited to fight in the War had yet to be deployed. Every city and town across Ingary was flooded with soldiers, all of them itching for entertainment and action. So when young Sophie ran into two bored soldiers who would sooner play with a pretty thing like her than be left unamused, Sophie became nervous. She was shy, and knew well from her mother's actions the dangers of men. She tried to discourage the soldiers, her attempt at courage giving way under the quiver in her voice, but they were too bored to be discouraged. Just when she was about to run for it, a low, smooth voice rippled from behind them.

'There you are, sweetheart. Sorry I'm late. I was looking everywhere for you.' An arm settled possessively across her shoulder." Felix was unaware that deep in the throes of the story, his father's words had come out in a tone slightly different from his natural one, carrying Howl's huskier inflection. Ana was enraptured by the tale and Felix's theatrical gestures, and a little surprised by the easy change in his voice.

"The soldiers did not appreciate some stranger poaching in on their catch, and tried to discourage the newcomer by claiming to be busy. However, as he smoothly said, 'Really? To me, it looked like the two of you were just leaving,' he sent them marching unwillingly away with a few quick flicks of his hand. Sophie glanced up at her rescuer. He was tall, his hair a light, fair blond that was long enough to fall into his icy, frosted blue eyes. A pink and slate diamond-patterned coat was draped across his shoulders, and a blue stone danced against his chest.

'Don't hold it against them. They're actually not all that bad,' the stranger said in the soldiers' defense. 'Where to? I'll be your escort this evening' he announced. Sophie stuttered that she was just heading to the bakery, to which he quickly warned her not to be alarmed, as he was being followed. After bidding Sophie to act normally, the stranger took her arm, leading her down the alleyway. As they walked, shadow fiends started to gather on their heels, melting out of the shade on the walls." At Ana's raised brow in question, Felix paused to explain.

"Shadow fiends are employed by wizards. They're an oil-like substance in a humanoid form, and live in shadows, hence their name. They're obedient, easy to make and maintain, and they're tireless. However, they have the unfortunate tendency to melt into a mob attitude when a group of them start to coalesce, so you have to maintain strict control in those kind of situations. Anyway," Felix said as he cleared his throat, "back to the story."

"The stranger whispered an apology for her involvement. Sophie could now clearly see more shadow fiends appearing before them when the stranger suddenly turned to the left, rushing her down another alley. The stranger was walking faster and faster, until he was almost running, but it did no good, as they were soon cut off again. Sophie could see the shadow fiends melting together not twenty feet away when the stranger warned her to hold on and grabbed her waist before shooting into the air." Ana's eyes showed how she remembered the sensation from her first day in Luxton, and immediately sympathized with Sophie.

"Sophie watched as the shadow fiends below collided, while she and the stranger rose about fifty feet into the air. As they started to slow, the stranger took both her hands, advising gently to straighten her legs and start walking. 'See? Not so hard, is it?' the stranger said. Sophie gasped in amazement as she walked on air across the square, hundreds of people blithely going about their business below, totally unaware of the couple strolling across the sky. He told Sophie that she was a natural, and got his first smile. When they finally reached Cesari's balcony, the stranger gently floated her down, assuring her that he would draw the shadow fiends off. He warned her to wait to go outside again, and after her acknowledgement, floated back from the balcony with a wave of his arm and the warm statement, 'That's my girl.' It was the first time Sophie Hatter met Wizard Howl. And not even a reputation like his could stop the tremors racing along her skin."

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_I can't even begin to apologize for how long this chapter took. This whole step in the story was very hard to figure without losing sight of the characters and their personalities. (Huge shout out to Laurel, who pretty much saved this chapter from dying)But I think I managed it. Let me know what you think of the fight scene. It's one of my firsts, and I rather enjoyed it. For those of you who don't want to read a recap of the movie, well… that sucks. Because I said a long time ago I would start this. If you don't like it, skip those parts. I won't do every scene of the movie, especially not in that kind of detail. Just my favorite parts (mainly the ones with Howl in them ;) ). To those of you who have only seen the movie and not read the book (like me), there are some details that might puzzle you. They're pulled from the book (except the shadow fiends; I made that name up). Also, those of you who can catch the reference to the Princess Bride, here's a cookie. Hope you enjoy!_


	8. Battle Worn

Ch 8: Battle Worn

Long before the sun rose the next morning, Felix and Ana were brutally awakened by the imminent crashing of thunder. With a fury, the sky loosed a torrent, almost as if it had been holding its breath and could no longer dam the rage of rain. As the first wave descended, Ana's eyes flashed open at the sheer chill soaking her. Jolting clear of the haze of sleep, she pushed up to her elbows, gazing at the flint sky with squinted eyes. Glancing over, she watched Felix push off of his bedroll, impatiently shoving back his already soaked hair, long raven strands falling into his eyes. Sparing a glance at the ominous sky, he shook his head and took to his feet, dousing the spitting and hissing fire with a wave of his hand. Sighing reluctantly, Ana stood as well.

The irony of the situation suddenly struck her as she bent to gather her bed roll, and Ana couldn't hold back the chuckle that bubbled in her throat. The bubble became a geyser, and for the first time in longer than she cared to remember, Ana laughed with carefree abandon, her arms wrapped around her waist, trying to contain the mirth as her lungs ached from the outburst of withheld emotion.

When the pressure of laughter started to ease, Ana was able to see through the tears and the rain that Felix was looking at her with a very concerned, very wary expression. Wiping the moisture from her eyes as small blips of laughter still slipped through her lips, Ana shook her head, trying to reassure Felix that she was not, in fact, totally insane. Holding out her hands at her sides to catch the rain wiping away some of the pain, fear, and distrust that had been dogging her, Ana closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Under the almost deafening patter of rain, Felix could barely hear her soft spoken words.

"It's actually not that funny," she acknowledged. "I was taken from my world during a storm like this. Seemingly endless, powerful, and without bias or judgment." Looking back at Felix, Ana's eyes were soft and almost content. "Maybe our worlds aren't so different, after all." The two of them only stood about six feet apart, but the miles-long gap that had separated their minds and hearts started to close, just a little. No words breached the moment, and the fall of rain began to match the rhythm of two beating hearts.

The connection snapped at the tandem of hoofbeats. Felix's eyes sharpened like blades, and Ana controlled the urge to jump like a rabbit. Swallowing back her blood's call to run, Ana turned to Felix, waiting for his directions. Their eyes met, emerald clashing against sapphire, and Ana's brow furrowed slightly at the ghost of a hunted expression in Felix's eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed, and Ana's heart started to instinctively sink. What was wrong? What was causing Felix to pause, to stumble?

Taking charge and moving silently, Ana kicked what was quickly becoming mud over the remains of the fire, snatched up her pack, swung it onto her back and slid to a stop next to Felix. She was relieved to see that he had broken his frozen stance, also slinging up his pack with a jerky movement. Ana watched him warily, not making eye contact. Felix appeared to be galvanized, reaching into the folds of his cloak, withdrawing what appeared to be a small lump of red clay carved with a symbol reminiscent of a capital "A." Cupping it in his hands, Felix gently blew over the red earth as the rain filled the carving's channels, murmuring strange words that Ana couldn't quite catch over the pounding drum beat of the rain.

The protection spell that had till now been invisible pulsed to life with a dull gold color, fine and shimmering under the dim cast of the rain. It was like a thin aureate net draped in a dome over the clearing. Whistling a low, clear tone, Felix drew the net down in dripping streams of light, the spell moving almost like wet paint. It seemed to be magnetized to the earth in Felix's hand. The red clay absorbed the spell's light; some of it dripped directly down from the roof of the dome while anything below ten feet high dribbled down the side, running along the ground like gold water to Felix's feet before inexplicably climbing up him to reach the red clay.

Soon it seemed that Felix was enveloped by the light, until he appeared cast in gold. Ana stood mesmerized as the process continued, unaware the bracelet on her wrist was humming and glowing more extravagantly than before in response to the magic nearby. The final splashes trailed up Felix's legs to his hands, sinking into the lump of clay with a soft sigh. The clay pulsed almost blindingly once, and then was once again a non-descript chunk of earth.

Felix tucked the earth clod back in his soaked cloak, and looked up as if his actions had been totally normal as he again brushed back his wet, rebellious hair. His brow lifted at Ana's wide-eyed expression, and looked equally bemused until his face cleared with sudden understanding, realizing that Ana must have never seen anything like that before.

"It's called a compoti. It absorbs a simple spell so that it can be recalled for later use instead of recast. It preserves energy, which is where a wizard's strength stems," he explained in a low voice as they made their cautious way out of the clearing. Ana was about to respond when Felix raised a hand in warning, his eyes focused just to the north as they knelt in some brush. Ana could sense the tension thrumming along his strong shoulders, and made an effort to breathe normally and quietly. However, that too was becoming a challenge, as the cold seeped under her skin and into her muscle and bone. Shivers tried to rack her frame, and Ana fought to keep her breathing regular and quiet.

A giant shudder finally broke through, so severe that it attracted Felix's attention. Laying feather-light fingers on her frozen cheek, he pressed warm lips to her other cheek. The kiss was nothing but polite, but heat exploded from the contact, racing through her blood like lightning until Ana was wet, but warm, the sensation of bubbling champagne still in her fingertips. She wasn't sure if it was a brush of magic or the contact of his lips that had washed her in warmth, but Ana was certain that she didn't want to explore the second option to disprove the first.

Felix's eyes again turned north, where the original hoofbeats had first originated. The rhythm faded in and out, unable to always compete with the rainfall's encompassing thunder. He tapped two fingers against the ground twice, and Ana watched as silver ripples emanated from the touch, quickly fading under the onslaught of the rain. She noticed Felix's brows frown more heavily, then relax. Standing slowly, he offered her a hand while keeping his eyes targeted to the north. Turning and moving with the stealth of a shadow once Ana had taken to her feet, Felix headed southwest, constantly glancing over his shoulder. Ana ground her teeth to check the urge to copy his nervous glances, and instead worked to keep her steps light and quiet.

They had been travelling for only half an hour at the most when hoofbeats exploded in a thunder not ten feet to the east. The two broke apart as the dozen infuriated Arsalans burst through the bushes, the horses sailing over the hedges as if they had wings. Ana's eyes shot wide as she dodged back, slipping and stumbling in the mud as a horse's hooves missing her trailing arm by inches. She heard Felix's muttered curse, and looked up just in time to catch his livid expression which, if she wasn't mistaken, was faintly laced with fear for her.

Her eyes focused with a keen accuracy as adrenaline gushed into Ana's system, her muscles trembling as her heart kicked up its beat. The Arsalans had split into two groups—six riders surrounded Ana with an impenetrable wall of horseflesh while the other half dozen circled Felix just as effectively. Separated and alone, the two of them had to count only on themselves. Taking that into account, Ana made a point to be as observant as possible.

The horses were winded, and steamed in the slashing rain. They must have been pushed hard to close her and Felix's lead. The men were also soaked, and clearly chilled to the bone as fine tremors shook their hands and faces. Many had to swipe their hair and water from their eyes as the rain continued to fall mercilessly. Ana whirled, refusing to plant her feet and leave her back exposed as she looked from one cavalry soldier to the other. Faintly she registered that the Arsalan captain was speaking to Felix about twenty feet away, but the blood was pounding too hard in her ears and the rain pummeling the earth too mercilessly to comprehend what he was saying.

Not to mention she had bigger problems of her own. One of the officers drew his pistol, a smile just tinged with evil curving his lips. The others chuckled, several drawing their pistols while those favoring the blade drew their gleaming swords. One of them muttered a low sentence, clearly meant for her. This one Ana could hear.

"We were instructed to bring you back alive. Lady Apollo didn't specify how alive you were to arrive." Ana swallowed back the fear that scrambled at her throat like a trapped mouse, bringing her weight to her toes and moving her hands out to the ready. Her conscious mind stuttered to a terrifying silence. Within the beat of a heart—her heart—Ana's instincts took over, the bracelet on her wrist blazing alight. Out of the corner of her eye, Ana registered an explosion of light within Felix's circle, followed by a crack of thunder brutal enough to cause the horses to start that didn't emanate from the sky. In that electric moment of ice, Ana heard Felix's call.

"Ana! Run!"

She moved, untried muscles screaming at the exertion. However, running was the last thing on her mind. Dropping her pack and lunging forward at a young lieutenant favoring his sword arm who was riding a particularly spooky horse, Ana hooked her arm through his and yanked while she simultaneously slapped the horse's hindquarters. The men effectively scattered, as spooked as their horses by the bolting horse racing straight for them. The shocked young officer toppled to the ground, his mouth gaping as Ana disarmed him and shoved his gun into the waistband of her breeches with quick, swift movements, the pistol's cold, wet barrel pressing against her spine. As the Arsalans still regrouped from their break in ranks, Ana squeezed the young man's temples. He was unconscious within the blink of an eye.

The Earth Ana stood back, gaping in shock at what she had done and what she was capable of. The Warrior Ana—the Mage just breathing to life—whirled, commandeered sword shivering with the pewter light of the rain and the sky. Gripping the wet hilt like a vise, she spared a searching glance for Felix. He too had a blade—one made of magic, not metal that shone wild silver and trailed sterling flames, while the pendant bouncing against his chest glowed like a blue star. He spared little mercy for Apollo's hunting dogs, and blood already splattered the ground. He narrowly avoided being skewered as a still mounted Arsalan took aim and charged, but, moving with a balletic grace, Felix dodged, catching the man high enough in the shoulder with his magicked sword to have the Arsalan flying to the ground, groaning as he clamped a white hand to the wound erupting blood at his shoulder.

Bolstered, Ana returned her attention to her own circle of problems, still numbering five. They sprinted forward as a front, intimidating and impassable. The roar of gunfire competed with the thunder that shot across the sky, lightning as fine as lace lancing down in a dare from the heavens themselves. Moving on pure instinct, Ana swiped the bullets away with an impatient swing of her blade. As the ash that had once formed lead bullets was driven to the mud by the rain, the Arsalans closed in.

Their strategy was obvious. The outside riders would curl around, again encircling Ana with riders who had the obvious advantage. Taking the more audacious, and dangerous, option, Ana pushed forward against the lead rider. He knew what he was doing—handling his mount expertly, the Arsalan wheeled his horse, the animal's stone hard rump knocking Ana back as it swung around. The ground soft and slick under her peddling feet, Ana went down.

Rolling like a panther, Ana took to her feet, changing her strategy suddenly. Moving like the lightning that splintered the sky, she took a running charge at the rider just to the right of the leader. The sergeant was forced to loosen the trigger as Ana brought one of his fellow riders into the line of fire. Wrapping her left arm around the rearing mount's soaked neck, Ana swung up, her right foot catching the man in the temple. The horse slipped in the churned mud, further compromising its rider's seat and forcing it to end its rear. As the horse's feet touched the ground, Ana landed in front of the saddle as the horse's rider hit the ground heavily. Scooting back, Ana gathered the reins in her fist, bringing the horse around hard. The animal fought her—it had been trained well—but Ana's eyes narrowed, and the horse relaxed with a snort, moving easily.

Now on even ground with her opponents, Ana took down two—no, three men before returning her attention to the leader of her ring of Arsalans. The two faced off, and Ana could hear the sounds of battle still raging not thirty feet away. Horses screamed, the tone trembling under the patter of the rain. Men moaned, and fought to get out of the way of the battles still raging. Some walked, some crawled. Some didn't move at all. Guilt wormed its way to the surface, and Ana swept for any dead with her mind. None had yet lost their lives, though some could be close if left untreated. Relieved, she returned her attention to the sergeant glaring at her with bared teeth. Mud splattered his face, the rain had soaked his thinning hair and uniform, and his mount shifted its hooves in search of sure footing amidst the soup-like mud.

Not bothering to fight the wicked smile that curved her lips, Ana flicked the sword in her hand. As if dipped in oil and held to a flame, it shone like a beacon, consumed with an emerald fire that seemed impervious to the endless rain. Cuing her mount hard, Ana sent the horse flying forward, pleased when the sergeant did the same. Only feet from her opponent, however, Ana suddenly heard Felix.

"No, Ana!" he cried. The stones in her bracelet that had been gleaming so brightly for so long gave one final flash before falling utterly dark. Her sword was also extinguished, leaving Ana with nothing but a piece of steel she had no idea how to handle. It was, Ana discovered, like dying.

Her mind, so full of color and control, completely blanked. Her muscles froze, then went totally lax. In a way, it saved her life. Her still running mount brought her closer to the sergeant, but when Ana suddenly relinquished complete control, the horse veered to the left, following instinct to avoid the head-on collision it was certain would occur should it stay its course. Pressing a shaking hand to the horse's withers in attempt to straighten as it slowed to a stop, Ana suddenly convulsed, vomiting blood over the animal's shoulder. Pain wracked her system, vibrating out from her spinal cord over her entire body and up into her brain. Ana felt like she was being ripped apart, every link in her mind and senses betraying her as they sizzled and shattered.

Through her tear- and rain-misted eyes, Ana could see Felix catch the butt of a pistol to the back of the head, sending him tumbling into the mud with eyes rolling and limbs loose. Releasing the sword she could no longer feel, Ana clutched her head, moaning softly as her stomach and lungs tried to follow the copious amount of blood that had already evacuated her body. Blood leaked from her nose in a dangerous stream, accompanying the blood draining from her ears. Over the screaming hurricane in her head, Ana could hear the sloshing hoofbeats of the sergeant's mount. She looked over with stars still revolving in her sight at the faint silhouette of the man who spelled the end of her freedom, perhaps even her life. And Felix? She couldn't guess what monstrosities they would inflict on him. An overwhelming sense of guilt made Ana's stomach clench, but not even the shiver of deep-seated, gut-wrenching emotion could make her move in defense, hers or Felix's.

Closing her eyes on a soft sob, Ana huddled forward, wrapping her arms around herself in a tight hug, unable to fight the pain that was short-circuiting her nerves from sheer volume, as even the rain drops pattering her back felt like individual stab wounds, each inexplicably finding her heart. Tears mingled with rain on the poor horse's shoulder as Ana wept, strength draining out of her like the blood pouring from her nose and ears. She had tried, and fought, so hard. It had been magnificent, to know, without analysis or conscious thought, how to think, how to move. How to win. She—they—had been so, so very close. The magic, something she hadn't even believed in, had intoxicated her, a drug that had swam in her blood like champagne with the sweetest tang of power. Losing it felt like a bullet to the neck—left irreversibly out of control but helplessly aware of what she no longer possessed. As her body tore itself apart, self-destruction the only way it knew to compensate for the power that had dominated it with such intensity, Ana slowly lost the feeling in her extremities. Not from the cold of the rain, but from the shut-down of her nervous system. The only sensation Ana had left to know that she was alive was the all-consuming pain.

Drowning deep in her sea of agony, Ana didn't hear the flap of wings, nor the sergeant's horse's tinny squeal. Amazingly, she did manage to hear the thud as the sergeant's body hit the ground. Opening her blackening eyes slowly, Ana felt a small smile crack the cold mask of her face at the sight of Felix standing next to the horse's shoulder, his hand carefully, oh so carefully, stroking her shoulder. Fresh tears fell down her cheeks as a tiny sound of joy and relief broke through, Ana's heart brimming full at the sight of Felix alive. When she tried to croak his name, he waved away her attempt. It was only then that she saw the pain in his eyes, the guilt and the fear dominating the soulful sapphire azure color.

"Come here, my brave warrior," he said gently as he took Ana's limp left hand in his and wrapped an arm around her waist. Ignoring the agony that erupted at every contact as best she could, Ana followed Felix's guiding touch with an almost childish obedience. Her feet didn't even touch the ground before Felix scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Her tears thickened as every touch, every breath, every thought flooded her with fresh torture. Still, Ana turned to him, her fingers vising in his cloak as she pressed her forehead against his chest. The patter of rain seemed so distant under the wind in her ears.

Summoning whatever droplets of strength she had left, Ana murmured with closed eyes, "Remind me to tell you of my father." Black finally closed in, blessing Ana with a reprieve from the pain that could kill her. Felix swallowed back the tears, guilt, and fear that tried to strangle him. His shoulder would go at any moment, but he could hardly expect Ana to move, and so carried her with a stoic determination. He never, _never_ thought something like this could happen. Never guessed that her gift would break so wildly free and rage for so long. It would be unheard of if she survived such an onslaught to her system.

Felix had never tasted such a poignant fear like the one that was shoved down his throat when, through the curtain of rain, he watched as Ana's sword and talisman were extinguished. Never did he wish to taste it again. With the mind-bound horse trailing after him, Felix trudged through the rain, Ana heavy in his compromised arms. Blood of his own flowed, mixing with the crimson that trailed from Ana's nose and ears. No one could argue that they hadn't won their freedom that day. But how high was the price?

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_Whoa, super heavy!! Let me know what you think of the fight scene. I told you guys all hell was going to break loose, it was just a matter of time. I desperately cranked this puppy out before leaving for Granby for the weekend of July 4__th__. Damn thing sucked me in. Explanations galore next chapter, but for now, you just get to worry and wonder. Three more chapters before Felix and Ana get a break. If you thought this was crazy, you're gonna have your socks blown off by some of the stuff coming up. I'm loving this momentum. I've never experienced it before. Oh, by the way, the term "compoti" is something I made up. It's a combination of Latin words that mean "absorb." Well, hope you like it!!_


	9. Evil's Face

Ch 9: Evil's Face

The Lady Sylvia Apollo was a decadent, indulgent woman. She lived in the royal palace as expected of someone of her rank, an entire wing dedicated to her private life, another to her public one. She demanded style, and was granted it without qualm or complaint. She had the wolfish tendency of sacrifice—others', of course. The Lady herself had lived with quality her whole life; it was now too much a part of her to relinquish at this stage. Physically, Sylvia didn't look a day over 25. In reality, she was technically a decade older. That thick streak of vanity was inherited from her mother and nurtured throughout her life with dedication.

Deep inside her cultured, soft white skin and generous, voluptuous curves lived a being far beyond empathy. Selfishness and avarice were so deeply ingrained in Sylvia that she no longer recognized them. Her most burning target—Felix Pendragon, as some knew him—had haunted her for exactly a decade. She had met the handsome young mage at the Royal Sorcery Academy when he was seventeen. Something in Sylvia's blood called out to possess the black-haired youth. Something her mother had felt once for Howl.

However, the women's paths had taken very divergent directions. Madam Suliman had taught Howl, chaining him under her command through loyalty to mentor and country. Lady Apollo had taken a different route. She had become Felix's lover, his first. She had bound Felix to her not through loyalty, but through lust and longing. But, like his father before him, Felix had broken that bond to flee into the wilds. It was only in his absence that Sylvia realized how much she had come to need Felix. Not the emotional need of one human to another—it was the obsessive need the entitled feel towards a possession they believe should belong to no other.

Even now, she paced in her study, wringing fine-boned hands as she scowled over her Arsalans' latest report. Felix and that crossing child had gone ballistic, apparently. Only one dead, unfortunately, but almost all of her men were too injured to maintain the chase. Sylvia tried to take solace in the fact that by all accounts, Felix and the woman, especially the woman, were also grievously injured. Details were fuzzy, but it seemed certain that her targets could move no more quickly than her Arsalans.

_They should be so lucky_, Lady Apollo thought to herself. _What do I train these men for, anyway?_ Flopping down into her overstuffed velvet upholstered chair behind the wide, feminine cherry desk, Sylvia tried to calm herself enough to work on the reports littering the polished wood. They had been scattered from their neat pile when she had first gotten word that her men had let the pair escape, yet again.

Just as she reached for the first report, one of her young blond assistants raced into her study. Some traditions still stood, the boy slim and young with blond hair. Howl had looked this way once, Sylvia often thought. Although Felix hadn't been instated into the Academy young enough to cultivate the appearance required for the position. Those idle thoughts flitted away like frightened birds when Sylvia caught sight of the blood running down the boy's face, the slash over his forehead leaving a flooding wound that leeched the color from his skin. There was no concern for the boy's life in Sylvia. What she was concerned about was herself.

"What in heaven's name is going on?" she huffed, trying to keep authority in her voice. The boy trembled, nervous glances flitting over his shoulder to the door he had just raced through. Just when he opened his mouth, a voice, cultured, eloquent, and dreadfully familiar, floated in from the hall. Losing his nerve, the assistant streaked from the room like a frightened deer. Sylvia couldn't fight her way around the sheer terror clogging her throat to control the boy.

"I'm here for a visit, darling. And there's a proposition I'd love for you to hear." In strolled a very tall, slimly built man. His hair was just as black as Felix's, but the color was dense with the whisper of brown, cropped even shorter than Felix's already unfashionably short cut. Aristocratic blood gave him a proud roman nose and angled his knife-sharp cheekbones. His brows were dark and heavy, expressive enough to be forbidding. His eyes were black, the irises indiscernible from the pupils, the heavy ring of dark lashes doing nothing to soften the stark chill of the man's gaze. A mocking smirk curved full lips, but the ghost of expression couldn't carve its way into the glacial cold of the man's eyes. The smirk became a grin, revealing a pair of wolf teeth that gleamed strangely in the soft sunlight filtering through the window at Sylvia's back.

Uncontrollable shivers of surreal terror streaked up and down the Lady Apollo's spine. If the monster within her had someone to thank for its existence, this man was it. It would seem that he had returned to haunt her, just when Sylvia believed that she had forgotten him. Through frozen lips, Sylvia wrenched out a wooden greeting.

"Hello, Gabriel." The man who inspired such abject terror was none other than Sylvia's brother. Formerly known as Lord Gabriel Alucard Apollo, he now went by a name that none would recognize. Once heir to the Duke of Lycastle title, he had been exiled nearly twenty years ago. Sylvia hadn't been able to live in her family's mansion since that day. 12 bodies had been found behind the expensive oak paneling of the walls—5 of children. All bearing the bloody mark of Gabriel's magic. He never admitted what exactly he had experimented on them for, but to this day Sylvia feared that the taint of his taboo magic would infect her. She couldn't guess if they had been Gabriel's first kills—he had been only 19 at the time—but she knew deep in her soul that they weren't his last. Even now, the abuse she had suffered at his and their father's hands kept her awake at night.

Moving with the soft gait of a panther, Gabriel approached her desk, where Sylvia was rooted, sky blue eyes frozen wide. He planted his wide, strong palms on her desk and leaned forward. When his skin contacted the wood with no more than a whisper, Sylvia internally flinched and squeezed her eyes closed. Those same palms had cracked across her cheek with enough force to bloody her nose countless time, covert abuses she had dreaded and expected. Opening her eyes with the reluctance of a prisoner making her way to the gallows, Sylvia tipped her head back to make the dreaded eye contact.

"It's good to see you again, baby sister." His voice was a purr, almost gentle, but the manic light that suddenly blazed in his eyes made Sylvia want to yelp. He raised a hand, and Sylvia's throat and mouth dried as bile skyrocketed through her throat. Clenching her teeth and holding her breath, Sylvia stayed stock still as he brushed snowflake-soft fingers along her jaw. "It's been a very long time."

"Not long enough," she breathed, terror robbing the volume of her voice as she lifted her chin in an attempt to keep the pressure of his fingers light. But Gabriel just clicked his tongue and pressed harder on her chin as he leaned forward, forcing her face even farther up with the lightest touch, exposing the white fragile column her throat. Her pulse beat in the hollow of her jaw like hummingbird wings, the blood pounding hard enough that it seemed to bruise her porcelain skin. A small curve tilted Gabriel's lips, laced heavy with triumph and a sick sort of joy. Sylvia had not surrendered. She had been conquered, in a matter of moments.

"Oh, but Sylvia. It would seem that I came just in time." The smile hardened, and something unholy crept into his eyes. His thumb trapped her chin, and now Sylvia's head was caged, forced to gaze into the soulless depths of her brother's eyes. In a single moment, Sylvia's power, rank, and prestige counted for nothing. She was a weak child, again trapped in Gabriel's clutches to manipulate and abuse as he would wish.

Suddenly releasing her, Gabriel spun away, folding his hands behind his back to create an almost contemplative stance as he strolled around Sylvia's spacious office. "You've done well for yourself," he murmured as he inspected a tiny bejeweled mirror that sat on her book shelves. Turning back, Gabriel's eyes glinted. "But you can do better."

"Wha—What do you mean?" Sylvia stuttered out unwillingly, watching in terror as her brother's white fingers seemed to trail over everything that could be touched. She could just imagine the stink of dark magic he would leave behind. Finally seeming to expend the last of his nervous energy, Gabriel sat, straightening his jacket lapels and cuffs with dignified motions.

"You and I are of royal blood, Sylvia. It is time we exercised our right to claim what is ours." The eloquent, righteous certainty in his voice was intoxicating, almost like black whiskey. Sylvia blinked quickly, struggling against the instinct to sink under its influence.

"What… exactly are you suggesting, Gabriel?" He breathed deeply through his nose once, steepling his long fingers. A normal person would assume he was reaching for patience. Sylvia knew he was controlling the wild urge to slaughter her where she sat. Gabriel watched her hawkishly, silently. Sylvia's lungs started to scream as she forgot to breathe, watching her brother watch her in utter silence. Suddenly, he spoke, breaking the hellish eye contact that had been straining between the pair.

"The king is a fool, Sylvia. He drains Ingary for a war no one could win, and now hunts away his time to salve his wounded pride. He has no wife, and no heirs to sooth his advisors' nerves." Leaning forward, Gabriel focused on Sylvia, and she could feel her muscles lock. "He has unwittingly placed himself in a position easy for the taking." Wrenching open her throat, Sylvia gasped out the words that boiled in her stomach.

"You're suggesting a coup?!"

"A coup that will be talked about, celebrated even, for the next century. I will end this current bloodline in fell swoop, and you are the perfect person to see to our success. You not only have the king's ear, you have a tight fist on the country's finances, and a hefty portion of the commoners' support. Sylvia, my dearest sister, you are invaluable."

"But, you can't—"

"Oh, I can, Sylvia. Killing the current king will be the easy part, I assure you. It's what follows that will require your support." The wild light in his eyes blazed to an inferno, and Sylvia bit back a scream as Gabriel stood, moving restlessly as he spoke. "I will have this world in the palm of my hand. This is the fate I was born for. I bided my time, waited my turn. Now, I will take what should have always been mine!" As he spoke, Gabriel's voice had risen, cresting in a near roar while garnet light vibrated around his irises and emanated from the heavy stone on the ring on his left index finger. Suddenly, his voice dropped to a near-whisper as he returned his gaze to Sylvia. "And you will help me." Swallowing heavily, her mouth trembled open, unsure what words would fall out.

"What if—?"

"What if you refuse?" he repeated, the words murmured almost too low to hear. Moving faster than seemed humanly possible, Gabriel wrenched Sylvia's chair over out from behind her desk, his hands gripping the arm rests as he brought his face within inches of Sylvia's. She could hear the wood cracking under his grip as the first tear fell, his eyes tearing holes in her mind. Bringing his right hand between them, Gabriel curled his fingers, then pushed, the snap echoing down the hall. Blood erupted over his hand, quickly soaking the white cuffs of his sleeve. Sylvia heard the small scream and imminent thud of a body hitting the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she would see the small, white outflung hand and a few strands of blond hair in the doorway to the assistants' studies.

"You won't," Gabriel murmured. He smirked, just the slightest quirk of muscle that coated Sylvia's spine in ice. "Not if you wish to be buried in one piece," he continued, patting her cheek with his blood-soaked fingers. She felt the wet blood, thick as paint, coat her skin. Straightening away from her, Gabriel strolled to the high windows, allowing the blood to drip off of his fingers to the floor as he walked. Stopping in the light, he trailed his fingers gently down the window, the expression on his face one of immense enjoyment. A cold sweat trickled down her ribs as Sylvia looked at the blood on the window, five stripes of death that marred the sunlight.

"You need to recall your Arsalans. This nonsense with Felix Pendragon has got to stop. It's childish," he added, turning around long enough to glare at her. "Your rank is ten times his will ever be. You're better than him, and always will be. Chase a more reasonable prey."

"But, Gabriel… He and the crossing child…" Whatever Sylvia would say died on her tongue as her brother whipped around, pressing the thumb and middle finger of his bloody hand to her temples. Sylvia almost passed out, she was so overcome by sheer and consuming terror. Unwillingly, she watched all the information she had received about Felix and the crossing child pass before her closed eyelids. When she had nothing left, Gabriel finally removed his hand. Tears trailed through the blood that now stained the sides of her face.

"Recall only half your Arsalans. Keep the others on that pair's tail. The goal is now to only pursue; capture is no longer an option until they're within 100 miles of Kingsbury. Maybe there is something to be gained from those two." Gabriel's tone changed, hardening to stone. "But your focus is to stay completely here on our future. You can play with Felix once he gets here; he is none of your concern until then. Him or the woman." Sylvia was too frightened to notice the slight shift in Gabriel's voice. It was something close to interest when he spoke of the crossing child.

And then, he was leaving, strolling to the door of her office with an easy gait. "Until next time, then, Sylvia," he said nonchalantly with a wave as he glanced over his shoulder. Stopping with his hand on the door knob, his eyes sharpened like knives, slicing Sylvia down to the bone. "I'll be watching." With that, he was gone, nothing but a slight wind and the scent of blood left. Frozen for a few moments, Sylvia sat, her helpless hands lying limp in her lap. Suddenly, she launched to her feet, racing to the small washroom attached to her office. Sylvia barely reached the chamber pot before she vomited with painful force, fear still poisoning her blood and numbing her mind.

Gabriel was back. And blood was already on his hands. Would she be next?

----------

_After much debate, I decided to go with the introduction of my ultra-villain as to immediately following our heroes after their battle. I've done a lot of post-trauma scenes; how about some fear to shake things up a little bit? Gabriel is my best bad guy yet. He's unpredictable, crazy charming, and freakin' crazy. Just the way I like 'em. ;) If you're having a hard time visualizing him, Gabriel's inspiration is Sylar from Heroes. Zach Quinto is definitely one my all-time favorite actors, and he just had to make an appearance in one of my stories. _

_Cookie to anyone who can tell me the character that Gabriel gets his middle name from. It just seemed to so awesome, the juxtaposition of angel and demon all bound by a god. Not that he uses that name right now, but still. I had to go back and re-change it from Gabrielle to Gabriel, as the former is feminine. My bad guy is many things, but feminine is not one of them._

_I'm working on Miyazaki's style of human villains. You thought Sylvia was bad, well, she has a reason to be. And while there aren't really any excuses for Gabriel, he will surprise you. Not a lot, but a little. There's no doubt that he's a monster, but he's not a robot. I just keep winding out plot twists, tighter and farther than I've ever attempted before. This is a real test. Let's hope I can handle the heat. _

_On another note, if you've reviewed before, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Do it again!! Reviews are my main source of motivation, so if you want to see the next chapter soon, your best bet is to shoot me a review. Thank you so much!! Hope you like it!!_


	10. Trinity

Ch 10: Trinity

_She was walking, scouting, trembling. The land was broken and shattered, cracked from power and hate. The soil, once rich and fertile, now fell away like paper, rustling weakly under her bare feet. Scattered sparsely across the dead, barren earth were skeletal shrubs, nothing left but the black bones reaching up for salvation to the storming sky like the hands of wounded soldiers left on the battlefield to die. Black clouds, edged with red and streaked with the pale charcoal of dead flesh, roiled and battled above across all the sky she could see. Thunder far in the distance rattled across her bones, and before her very eyes, the strong shock of the crack widened the wounds cut into the earth. Far in the distance, a formidable mountain range stood shelter for the war of lightning that roared across its peaks. The lightning wasn't the pure white she knew; it was stained, almost like thirsty spears still strong enough to draw more blood. _

_To her left stood the charred, crumbling remains of a tree. Something, some old knowledge left abandoned, drew her closer. Brushing her hand across what had once been bark, she gasped as it flaked off on her hand, leaving a black stain on her skin. The tree started to cave in, its collapse catalyzed by her touch. As she watched, the tree crackled and shivered, and as the trunk shattered, it emitted one final cry, the death peal of this world. Then, it fell silent, nothing more than a pile of ash at her feet. _

_Without warning, a wicked shriek of wind screamed across the plain where she stood, consuming everything in its path. Dry earth, little more than sand, flew like snow in a blizzard, slicing at her skin like blades once the wind reached her, enveloping her. It quickly swept up the remains of the tree, and cocooned her in grey earth and black tree ash. The wind tugged at the shorn ends of her short hair, biting eagerly at her exposed skin. Crouching down and covering her head with her arms for protection, she tried to wait out the wind storm. But as it tirelessly continued, hidden tears fell. Her whispers were destroyed by the wind, but uttered nonetheless: "When did it all die?"_

-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a bolt of light that awoke Ana from the dream that trapped her. Blinking desperately as the resonating cobalt light seemed to split her skull, Ana didn't realize the whimper that tore through her throat, too weak to raise her hand in defense. She could faintly make out a figure silhouetted by the glow. Arms were spread wide, a cloak that clicked a drowning memory flapping gently in a spell breeze. It turned, and some part of her brain, overwhelmed by the cries of pain, recognized the tall, slim creature as Felix. He moved forward, crouching down to bring his face close to her's. His features swam sickeningly, dark-lashed eyes refracting to collide with a long, straight nose, while his cheekbones crashed together over his full mouth. A strong jaw smashed against his high forehead, and Ana faintly registered that her eyes were rolling, her consciousness slipping.

Through it all, she could feel gentle fingers brush over her forehead and cheeks, feather light and echoing fear. As she slipped away, Ana felt Felix gather her close, whispering, "It's all right, Ana. They're coming."

----------

_She was home, happy and warm. Outside, a gentle snow fell, ushering in the holidays with a quiet cheer. Standing from the deep-seated chair by the roaring fire, she turned while keeping a hand on the back of the chair, smiling at the family gathered around the large oak table. A tall, strapping auburn-haired man played cards with two small children, eerily alike in appearance even for siblings. Both had the man's clever brown eyes, but bore a shock of blond hair, ringleted on the little girl, that beautifully contrasted their dark eyes. _

_The man seemed nervous, and was often scolded by the children for not paying attention. They called him Papa, and he would flash them a sheepish, charming smile before returning his attention to the cards fanned in his hand. An older man sat at the end of the table between the father and his children, an excited gleam in his eyes as he alternately studied his cards and the other man. The only thing that betrayed his age was the rare few silver hairs that threaded his hair at the temples and laugh lines around his mouth and at the corner of his eyes. _

_When it was finally the older man's turn, he triumphantly splayed his cards on the table in front of him, eliciting groans of disappointment from the children. The father tried to look disappointed, but his gaze kept straying to the stairs over at the right side of the room. Ana followed his gaze, and saw a young man enter from the kitchen. For some reason, his presence elated her, joy bubbling in her blood as he winked at the children, joking with the man who had won. _

_He clapped a hand on the father's shoulder, saying a few comforting words about patience before his eyes met her's. It was only a moment, but it was their's. However, it was broken, when a woman the game winner's age came running down the stairs, shouting some excited news. The father shot to his feet, fear and ecstatic joy fighting on his face as the young man wrapped him in a heavy bear hug before turning to toss some comment at the game winner. Trying to look angry, money passed hands between the two. The father turned to the children, tears of joy in his eyes as he gathered them close, carting them up the stairs. Everyone followed, and she moved to join them. However, as soon as her hand left the chair, she felt herself being pulled away. Her man beckoned, but she was slipping away, losing grip…_

-_-_-_-_-_-

A crash of thunder dragged Ana up from the dreams the second time. She sensed her eyes flashing wide, but was horrified when she saw nothing. Her utter terror summoned enough strength to weakly wave her hand in front of her eyes. But not even the faint flash of flesh could be seen. She wasn't in the dark; she was blind.

"Papa?" she whispered, fear trembling in her voice. It was the only thing her mind could dredge up. Where was her father? She called out the childish query a second time, adrenaline and fear summoning enough strength for the sound to carry. Faintly, she heard steps approaching, and was immensely relieved. Her father was coming; he would help her.

"Ana? What is it? Ana, can you hear me?" The relief drained, leaving Ana empty and stone cold inside. Who was this man, and where was her father? Soft hands gently ran over her shoulders and down her arms. Ana flinched, weeping at the pain it caused to shift away from the contact and wildly wave her hands in front of her.

"Ana! It's me! It's Felix," the stranger said as he caught her hands, holding them against his beating heart. "You're all right, Ana, you'll be fine." The fear in his voice strangely dimmed her's. It trembled through his tone, even as he valiantly tried to sound reassured and calm. Ana curled her fingers into the cloth under her hand, feeling the fast, fear-driven beating of his heart under her palm. Suddenly, she remembered. There was no rush of recognition. Like the click of a lightbulb, the memories were there.

"Felix," she whispered as his hold on her hands gentled, "I—I can't see." He didn't tense as she had expected. She didn't know what showed on his face, but he didn't feel surprised. He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, one hand leaving her's to gently run over her hair. She flinched from the touch she couldn't see coming, but Ana felt guilty when his hand quickly withdrew.

"This sometimes happens. It shouldn't be permanent, Ana." She didn't have any time to be comforted by Felix's statement, however. Within a heartbeat, Ana started coughing violently, wheezing and hacking like a dying person. Felix levered her upright, but it didn't help. No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to get enough air. Ana's lungs were killing her as they tried to breathe. Just as she started to feel light-headed from her gasping attempts to draw air, Ana felt a hand pressed over her heart. A warm glow, one she knew now to be associated with healing, spread along her skin. As she dropped back into the black that had held her for so long, Ana could hear Felix coughing.

----------

_She was walking again, this time over grass rich with health and age. No one walked beside her; her mission as her's alone. In her hands were three blooms—a delicate blue thiman, a small ivory ice tear, and a cluster of strong purple fidetions. Known in her world as a forget-me-not, a snowdrop, and heliotropes. True love and remembrance, hope, devotion and faithfulness. She walked up a hill, just shy of steep. When she finally reached the crest, she could look down on a small town she didn't recognize. What she did know was that it was alive, and celebrating._

_The war had been won, and in this place, this time, this small town had survived. They had every reason to celebrate. And every reason pay homage. For it was in this small pocket of free, living land that the grave had been chosen. The cemetery for the warriors. The soldiers that had died so that this town, and many others like it, had reason to celebrate._

_Turning away from the joy below that so clashed with the sorrow within her, she made her way down the other side of the hill to a small cup of green, where the gray stones broke the earth with strength, and pride. They had every right—they had earned this place. Winding her way through the stones, some crammed tight with names, dates, and long quotes, while others bore nothing but the crossed swords of a soldier, leaving this world with only the distinction of their sacrifice. _

_There, beyond the strict rows of the warriors, was the grave she sought. Sheltered by the gentle shade of a willow was a solitary marble stone, carved beautifully along the edges. The words across the face of the stone were elegantly scripted, and his long name made her smile through the tears. _

Felix Gideon Jenkins Pendragon

Son of Howl, Father of the Rebellion

When I used my strength in the service of my vision

it made no difference whether or not I was afraid.

In her I am reborn

_Carefully, she placed the three flowers on the grave, brushing the petals of the yellow daisy no doubt placed by his parents with gentle fingers. Crouching down, she ran her hands over the last line of text. Only she knew what the line meant. Her name meant resurrection, and through her memories, Felix would live on. It was his final outreach to her, and a small comfort to hold when she mourned the breaking of her heart. Pressing her fingers to her lips, then to the cold stone of his name, she stood, turning to walk away. At the top of the hill, she looked back at the swaying branches of the willow. Leaving the tears on her face untouched, she turned away, and left the dead behind._

-_-_-_-_-_-

Ana awoke slowly, drifting out of the sorrow of her dream, the remnants of the powerful emotions clutching at her like the soft fingers of fog. For a moment, it was a challenge to focus her eyes. Everything was bathed in a gentle sort of ivory light. Slowly a black shape came into focus, the movements slow and mystical. Ana wasn't sure if it was the figure or her sight that was so measured. A person stood bathed in the light, a wind billowing the long cloak as he waved his arm in long strokes above his head in a beckoning gesture. Beyond him a giant form landed on the ground with a thundering crash that shook her bones with a rolling violence.

Turning, he moved to her with the quiet grace of his slow movements, Felix's eyes glowing from the unfocused plains of his skin, hair, and clothes. Kneeling beside her, he gathered her easily in his arms. Ana went with the soft obedience of a child, fighting the pain that rippled through her as she lifted her arms around his neck. Slowly, like through water, he turned, carrying her to the bright light that washed over and away anything to be seen. Felix lowered his head, whispering into her ear gently, "They're here, Ana. It'll be alright."

Pressing her ear to his chest, she could hear the slow, strong beats of his heart. Felix's blood rushed under his skin like a river, and she knew that in this beat of life, this slow moment of time, she trusted no other person more than the man that held her. She didn't know where he was taking her, but she believed that it would be as he promised. It would be alright. She slipped away to the rhythm of his stride.

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_Ok, I'm sorry, I kinda lied. This chapter isn't an explanation like I promised. In fact, it may be more confusing than the last few chapters. Symbolism and deep meanings galore. Just stuff to pretty much remember at this point, not analyze. If you figure it out, I applaud you. But don't beat yourself up. It's pretty much a huge jumble of foreshadowing and possibilities and… other stuff. Remember, reviewing doubles your chances of seeing a chapter within a week. It doesn't guarantee it, but it sure does stack the odds in your favor, so give me a holler. In all honesty, it's up to you readers to keep me going. So, hope you like it!!_


	11. Safe Harbor

Ch 11: Safe Harbor

Ana all too light in his arms, Felix strode with confidence, kicking in the door with a violent strike. Moving up the twelve steps to the main floor with the lightness of a panther, he scanned the living room with sharp eyes. They had redesigned and moved since he'd left. The room was larger, reflecting more of her gentle style and taste. Glancing to his left, he felt a small smile tug his lips at the flame that roiled with the light of a jester in the hearth backed by a smiling sun. Flaming to life, the small eyes looked at Felix with shock.

"Felix? What—What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Calcifer." Felix reluctantly stopped in front of the hearth, his eyes flicking back to the stairs every couple of seconds.

"We knew someone had sent the summons, but we didn't think it was you. You know Howl's gonna—Who is that?" Calcifer's tone switched from rampaging scold to a shocked dread, shooting up a comical octave when he finally noticed Ana lying unconscious in Felix's arms. The flame's mobile mouth hung open and, for one of the few times in Felix's life, Calcifer was speechless. If the situation hadn't been so dire, he would have laughed. Finally, Calcifer got a hold of himself, his mouth twisting as he pinned wry eyes on Felix.

"You didn't get her pregnant, did you?"

"Wh—What?" Felix sputtered, his brow furrowing furiously. "Of course not! What's the matter with you, Calcifer?"

"Just wondering," the flame said, his shoulders shrugging off Felix's outrage. The mage shook his head, trying valiantly to regain his focus.

"My father, where is he, Calcifer?"

"In the library," the flame promptly replied. But just as Felix started striding away, Calcifer quickly shouted after him, "But I wouldn't talk to him right away if I were you. I'd find your mom first, get her in your corner before you take on your dad. Besides, she's the one to go to about your girlfriend there." The flame finished his final jab with a snicker, and Felix felt his eyes narrowing.

"She and I are not romantically connected, Calcifer," Felix growled through clenched teeth. "But I have no qualms about emptying the rainwater bucket over your sorry little head." With that, he turned with a whip of his cloak, catching the flame's wagging tongue out of the corner of his eye. Some things, at least, never changed. Moving up the stairs with the same grace as he'd scaled the first, he made his way quickly down the long corridors of the inner castle. Felix hadn't bothered to ask where his mother was; Sophie was a creature of habit, far more so than her husband. At this time of day, she was always in her garden.

Striding up another set of stairs, Felix used his shoulder to push open the ajar door leading out onto the balcony that had been there since before he was born. And there his mother was, humming as she knelt amongst her pikinies, weeding with patience and nurturing with the inherent skill of a mother. The breeze tugged gently at her starfire silver hair and her pretty but grubby lavender shirt. His mother had stolen a pair of his father's trousers, as she often did whenever she wished to get dirty in her garden. His father had often demanded, with some exasperation, that she merely get her own pants. But she maintained that it was unladylike to own a pair of trousers, and continued to filch her husband's with the lithe fingers of a thief. Unbidden, Felix's heart melted a little. It had been a long time since he'd seen Sophie Leah Hatter Jenkins Pendragon. And he had missed his mother so.

"Mother," he said, speaking more gently than he had intended. Like the forest, there was something about Sophie's garden that encouraged quiet. She looked up from her toils quickly, for there was only one person in the world who addressed her as such. A smile illuminated her pretty face as Sophie caught sight of her son, standing quickly and hurrying to his side, her old boots soundless in the smoothly groomed grass. It dimmed slightly as she saw the woman lying limp in his arms. But it was concern that darkened her eyes, not suspicion.

"She is ill?" Sophie asked, her voice very much the same low, soft timbre it had been over twenty years ago. Gently laying one hand on her son's upper arm, she pressed the other to Ana's forehead. Whatever she felt was not reassuring, as her brow furrowed and her lips pursed.

"It's complicated," Felix faltered, unsure of how much he wanted to, or even could, explain. However, his answer didn't sooth his mother, whose soft brown eyes shot up hawk-like to his. Her eyes shifted askance to his as one hand fell away from Ana's forehead and the other tightened on his arm, her expression imperceptibly changed.

"Is this woman carrying my grandchild, Felix Gideon Pendragon?" Felix pressed his eyes closed on a groan, his head dropping back. What had he done to earn this ridiculous reputation among his family? And she had gone so far as to use his full name. There was no way he deserved this.

"Mother!" he said, aghast and insulted. Apparently his reaction appeased Sophie, as the huntress look disappeared, and she was again the concerned healer. "She is only a good friend, and very injured at that," Felix added, hoping that was enough to warrant his mother's concern. Sophie nodded, briefly pressing two fingertips to Ana's temple before nudging Felix back inside.

"Take her to my study. While I tend to her, you can go and explain to your father what's going on." Leading the way with comfortable grace, Sophie didn't see the wince in Felix's eyes. He knew he was going to have to face his father at some point; that didn't make him dread that endeavor any less. "Don't worry, Felix," Sophie continued, leaving her son with the sneaking suspicion that she had sensed his thoughts, "your father will understand." He could only hope he was that lucky.

His mother's study was simple and sturdy, with the small touches of elegance that surprised and delighted. Much like the woman herself. Busily braiding back her shoulder-length silver hair, Sophie watched Felix lay Ana on the long couch with eagle eyes. Nervous and afraid for Ana's life despite all he'd done to save it, Felix knelt beside the crouch briefly, gently brushing back her hair as he held her hand. "It's going to be alright, Ana," he murmured. He had been promising that to her quite a bit recently. He only hoped that his promise would prove valid. Standing slowly, he turned to leave. Sophie moved quickly, softly wrapping her arms around his waist as she rested her head over his heart. Her son was as tall as his father, a fact Sophie would often jokingly rue. Without hesitation, her son returned the embrace.

"Welcome home, Felix."

"It's good to be home, Mother." Releasing each other, Sophie allowed Felix on his way as she knelt beside the couch. Just as Felix reached the door, his mother spoke as she busily checked Ana's pulse in her wrist to the clock ticking on the wall.

"Felix? What is her name?"

"Ana," he murmured, the echoes of his words sliding over the click of a closing door.

----------

Making his way to his father's study, Felix tried to steady his dropping heart with a deep breath, but it did little to ease him. The ramifications for interrupting the Travels would no doubt be severe; the tradition was steeped heavily in history, and wasn't broken easily. Only the death of an immediate family member should warrant a mage's return before the seven years were at an end. He could only hope his father agreed with his reasoning for the summons.

Felix knocked on the closed oak door with polite restraint. The command "Enter," slid through the thick door in Howl's deep tone, and Felix briefly squeezed his eyes closed. He was no child to be reprimanded. But to lose his father's respect would break his heart. With a huff, he opened the door.

Unlike his mother's study, the library was masculine, messy, and magnificent. It was very much his father's domain. Howl wasn't behind the heavy ebony desk that was strewn with papers. As his eyes adjusted to the low, mystical lighting, Felix could see his father skimming through a book in one of the rows, his dark head bent as he studied the pages by the candle's flame glowing over his head. Felix warranted but a glance at the floating candle; he had used many during his schooling days.

"Father," he murmured, again dropping his voice in reverence to the atmosphere. Howl's head whipped up, his father snatching the reading glasses from his nose as his pinned his blue eyes on his son. Forcing back the urge to swallow anxiously, Felix drew back his shoulders and met his father's powerful gaze with one of his own. Tossing the book back on the shelf with a characteristic carelessness that would have made Sophie wince, Howl tucked his glasses into the pocket of his waistcoat as he silently strode to his desk. Felix shifted to let him pass, following his father obediently, but not meekly. He hadn't made a mistake. He had to believe that. Felix left a chair between them to maintain his pride.

Instead of dropping down behind the desk, Howl leaned back against it, his arms crossed over his chest while one leg was cocked back. "Care to explain what you're doing here? You're four years early." His father's voice wasn't sharp, but just shy of it. His hard stance broke on a sigh, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose as he pressed his eyes closed. Opening them again, Howl looked back at his son with weary, disapproving eyes. "We both know I've never held much stock in the rules, but this was _important_, Felix. You didn't get some woman heavy with child, did you?" The last statement was said with a sort of wary worry, and had Felix unsuccessfully biting back a growl.

"No! I am no some philanderer who carelessly impregnates some hapless woman who crosses my path! But you're right, Father. The Travels are important," Felix quickly corrected, leaning his hands on the back of one of the chairs in front of the deck to emphasize his seriousness as he swallowed back his anger. "And you know that I would never have dreamed of returning home yet had I not had a reason, a damn good one, at that." His eyes intent, his father leaned forward.

"Then by all means, enlighten me, Felix. What is going on?" Straightening on a sigh, Felix moved around the chair, dropping into it with an exhaustion he refused to acknowledge. He hadn't left the battle unscathed, either.

"The crossing to the north a few days ago. Did you sense it?" Felix looked up to see his father's eyes clear. He was listening.

"Yes, of course. I assumed when no more activity came from that area, it was a done matter." Felix shook his head, unaware of how the fatigue was showing on his face.

"You didn't sense anything more because it wasn't a wizard that crossed. Well, not exactly." At Howl's lifted brow, Felix continued. "It was a woman, with bolts of power and absolutely no training. And she had the unfortunate luck of crossing over into a town inhabited by Arsalans." A wicked light entered Howl's eyes, but Felix had no energy to revel in his father's shared opinion of Apollo's mercenaries. He merely kept drudging through the words, the images of their journey flashing in his mind.

"They're determined to catch her, and Apollo's determined to have her. They threatened the village should I not turn her over," he said as he lifted his gaze to his father's. The two men looked at eachother, and understanding flowed heavy. Felix had done what he had to do. "So we ran. Into the forest, heading south. We had a good lead, but the Arsalans snuck up on us, I'm not quite sure how. Anyway, they ambushed us. Separated us. I created a distraction, hoping she would run. Instead she… she went ballistic. A moving, fighting whirlwind. She took down five Arsalans in a matter of minutes." Howl's brow again raised, this time impressed.

"Her gift had broken free like a hurricane. And just as she faced down the last one, her power… went out." Felix's soft-spoken words were uttered with the same empty pain and fear he'd felt then. He didn't look up to the see the expression on his father's face. He wouldn't have understood it even if he had seen it. Instead, Felix kept his eyes on the clock on the desk as he continued his tale. "She collapsed, and hasn't been fully conscious since. That was three days ago, during the storm." Lacing his hands together and leaning on his knees, Felix looked up.

"She's dying, Father. I can't save her. I can feel her slipping away. I needed your help. If Ana dies…" He couldn't finish the sentence, but he did see the flash of recognition and question flame in his father's eyes as he moved towards Felix. But just as Howl opened his mouth, they both sensed Sophie running up the stairs. Their heads turning as one to the door, they watched Sophie burst into the room.

"Howl! Felix! Come quickly! I'm losing her!" The three flew out of the library and into the hallway, their stampeding footsteps drowning out Calcifer's shouts of bewilderment echoing from below. They burst into Sophie's study, and Felix felt his stomach shoot to his feet at the sight that greeted him. Ana's spirit, her gift and life, was bleeding out of her in great streams of green light, pooling briefly on the floor before evaporating into the air, leaving behind the scent of vanilla and gladiolus. Rushing forward, Felix slid to his knees beside the sofa, pressing his fingers to her temples, closing his eyes fiercely as he used his own spirit to dam hers. But the strain proved too much, and Felix felt his own consciousness wavering. Gritting his teeth, he tries to push harder, but he didn't have enough to give.

"Felix!" his father barked as he gripped Felix's shoulder. Slowly opening his eyes, Felix fought the gray that sparkled in his vision. "Enough, son," his father murmured. Howl gently pulled him to his feet before turning to Ana. His mother materialized at Felix's side, stroking a hand down his arm and over his cheek.

"You've done enough, Felix. Too much, or I never would have asked. Go on now, rest. Your father and I will take care of her." She turned away, but Felix didn't budge.

"But she—"

"She'll be fine. We won't lose her. Now go on." With that, Sophie moved to the other side of her husband, her hands already bathed in the violet light of her magic. Left with no option but to obey, Felix turned, stumbling out of the room. He had only closed the door when he felt his legs start to collapse. A familiar arm caught Felix before he hit the ground, quickly slinging his left arm over broad shoulders as he helped Felix to his old room.

"Never could resist playing the hero," his old friend murmured.

"You know me. Gotta keep my armor nice and shiny," Felix muttered before passing out.

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_I know, this isn't the explanation I promised. Next chapter, Westernaires' honor!! But I felt it important to remind that Felix is also messed up, and he took some hard hits from the ambush too. However, this chapter and the ones to come are one of the things I'm most terrified of. I can't tell you how worried I am about the character critiques every reader and their Aunt Myrtle, not to mention their Granpappy Louis, are certain to throw at my doorstep about my portrayal of Howl, Sophie, Calcifer, etc. Howl, as expected, is the one I'm most worried about, and the most difficult to write about. _

_Please be gentle!! This is a lot harder than you think!! The one person entitled to (you know who you are) has given her stamp of approval. Another thing to keep in mind is that those characters, especially Howl and Sophie, have changed. They are parents, concerned parents who want only the best for their son. The vagueness is going to dim from here on out—I know I've ruthlessly exploited your patience up till now. Things will start making sense and people will start being introduced. And don't forget to review!! So hope you like it!!!_


	12. Rodzina

Ch 12: Rodzina

When Ana's eyes fluttered open, the first thing she noticed was that she hurt. But the hurt wasn't the grinding, breaking sensation that had been haunting her since the ambush; it was the hurt of healing. As she brought the room into focus, Ana blinked owlishly when she finally noticed the woman sitting at her side. Seated in an old rocking chair that gently creaked in rhythm with her movements, the woman concentrated on a square of needlework as she quietly hummed, her emerald gown well-tended and elegant. Her hair was, well… it was magnificent. A star-bright silver, half of it was gathered at the back of her head by a matching forest green ribbon, while the rest rained down over her shoulders in a thick fall of mercury.

Her face was a startling contradiction to her silver hair; it was youthful, unlined, and her eyes were sharp and strong. Her shoulders were far from bowed, and her waist was still small despite having borne a child. This could only be one woman…

"I see we're awake," the woman said, catching Ana's attention with a smooth voice that complimented her dark mahogany eyes as she set aside her needlework. With gentle hands, she grasped Ana' wrist, watching the clock ticking on the wall as she continued to speak. "And how are you feeling?" Ana opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Attempting to clear her throat surreptitiously, she tried again.

"Fine."

"Hmmm," the woman said, and Ana could hear the disbelief in the resonating hum. "You will be eventually." Her pulse rate satisfactory, the woman then turned her gaze back to Ana's.

"Where is Felix?" the words blurted out with a life all their own, bubbling out of Ana's throat and winging away into the air. The woman's eyes turned thoughtful, as if Ana had become a puzzle that presented a set of all new pieces.

"He's resting. He's done enough for now." Ana was about to say something in response when her stomach violently cramped. Grinding her teeth against the gasp, Ana felt a shiver rollick across her bones. The woman's eyes narrowed in concern, and rested a comforting hand on Ana's shoulder. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

"I… I really can't remember." With a nod, the woman stood.

"I'll bring up a tray." As she walked away, Ana interrupted her.

"Please, I… I haven't walked in days. I have to start sometime, don't I?" she added with a courageous smile at the purely matronly look the woman shot her way. With a sigh, she made her way back, clearly not happy about getting Ana out of bed so soon.

"All right… Up we go," she said as she helped Ana up. One arm around her waist with the other clutching her right hand, the woman kept close eyes on Ana's face as she took to her feet. "All right?" Ana nodded, and tried to keep the wince off of her face. It hurt to feel the weight of gravity and her own body pressing down on her bones again, but, as she had said, better to start now. She'd have to face this pain eventually. It didn't get any better as they slowly made their way to the door, so Ana spoke to distract herself.

"You're Felix's mother, aren't you? Sophie Hatter." Sophie laughed, a lovely sound that reminded Ana of a bell's joyous rings.

"I am indeed Felix's mother, but I haven't used my maiden name in years. My last name is Pendragon now. It's my favorite of my husband's aliases, and the one Felix favors, as well." Nodding at her words, they moved in silence for a while, until Ana was again forced to speak to keep her mind off her weeping legs.

"Where exactly are we, Mrs. Pendragon?" Sophie started, her wide russet eyes flicking up quickly to Ana's. They paused, and Ana searched her mind desperately for what she had said wrong. Sophie shook her head with a low chuckle, and started moving again.

"I'm sorry. It's just that the last time someone called me Mrs. Pendragon, I was far older than I am now." Sophie continued before Ana could figure out her puzzling statement. "We're in Howl's castle. It's a moving entity, almost impossible to track, and powered solely by Calcifer. In other words, it's the perfect place to hide. That's the purpose Howl initially built this thing for. And I imagine that's what Felix had in mind when he brought you here." More confused than she was before, Ana held her tongue as they made their way down the final set of stairs.

Two masculine voices swam under the bright chatter of children. For a moment, Ana was certain that one of the voices was Felix's. As the pair of women stepped off the final stair, the voices stuttered to a halt, and Ana found herself under inspection by different colored, but equally wary and interested eyes. Sophie cleared her throat, patted Ana's hand, and began the introductions.

"Everyone, this is Ana, Felix's guest and good friend. Ana, this is my husband, Howl," she said first, gesturing to the man standing before the open fire, a pan in his hand and a piercing, calculating expression in his sapphire eyes. Ana blinked at the similarity between Felix and his father. They could have passed for twins but for the rare streaks of silver in Howl's midnight hair and laugh lines around his mouth and eyes that made a woman look weary but lent a man an air of experience. His hair was longer than Felix's, shoulder-length at least and tamed back in a queue by a navy ribbon. But the resemblance of their physique, height, and facial expressions was eerie.

"And how are you, Ana?" the elegant lord of the house asked, and Ana was shaken by yet another likeness between father and son. The tone and resonance between the two voices were almost identical. But for a slight gruffness that came from age, Howl sounded exactly like his son. It was a challenge to overcome, and Ana cleared her throat to settle her nerves.

"I'm doing fine, thank you." He tipped his head as he angled his gaze, and a considering light illuminated his eyes.

"Well, at least you're strong enough to lie." He sounded almost happy about it, and turned back to what smelled suspiciously like French toast in his frying pan. Ana still reeling from Howl's appearance, Sophie turned to the man sitting at the table.

"This is Markl Fisher, Howl's old apprentice," Sophie gestured to the tall auburn-haired man sitting at the oaken table. His build was stronger and broader than Felix's or Howl's, and when he stood to shake her hand, Ana could see that he was taller than both. He was built like a fighter, and his sparkling brown eyes, darker than Sophie's, smiled. Like when she had first seen Howl, there was the faintest spark of recognition, a tiny star flash in Ana's mind, too small to be grasped or pondered. Markl's hand enveloped Ana's, and he closed his other hand over their joined ones, worry and concern under the smile on his lips and in his eyes.

"You and Felix gave us a scare there, girlie. But you're safe now. Sit down and enjoy some of Howl's famous Tishion toast." Leading Ana to the table with burly arm around her shoulders, Markl paused by Howl. It was only then that Ana noticed the children. She had been so stunned by Howl's appearance that she hadn't noticed the two children leaning silently against his legs.

"My two little miscreants. Ana, meet Thomas and Linnea." The children had their father's eyes, but they must have inherited their rich golden blond from their mother. The two appeared far too similar to be anything but twins, fraternal due to their different gender, but very alike. The boy pouted at the use of his full name, and the girl kept sharp eyes on Ana. Her knees screamed as she knelt, but Ana ignored the shiver of pain. The children stepped forward dutifully out of Howl's shadow. They shook Ana's hand under their father's watchful, expectant eye, but stepped back as soon as the service was done. Glancing up at his father, the boy frowned.

"No one calls me Thomas. You can call me Tommy." The boy's tone brightened as he informed Ana of his nickname, and Ana could see a flash of his father's charm in his smile.

"Call me Leena," the girl quickly added, not to be outdone by her brother. Ana could see that Leena would one day be as beautiful as her twin would be handsome. And both were very intelligent for their age, which Ana estimated around 5 or 6 years old.

"Alright, but only if you call me Ana. My full name is Anastasia O'Neill, and that's quite a mouthful. Ana is easier." The children nodded in agreement, almost in unision. Ana didn't see how Howl stiffened, flashing a quick, heavy glance to his wife. It wasn't the first time her name had been uttered in the castle, but Ana couldn't have guessed such a thing. Instead, she smiled at the two children slowly starting to warm to her.

"Are you helping Howl make breakfast?" Ana said with a smile. She wasn't sure of the connections running heavy in this family, but she knew the proprietary air of children around a loved one when she saw it. Standing with a grimace she tried to hide, Ana was surprised when Markl's hand caught her elbow, easing the movement with his support. Turning to finally make her way to the table, the children and Markl walked in tandem to Ana's slow, measured stride.

"Well, we tried," Leena admitted.

"But when we broke the eggs, it got messy," Tommy finished, earning a glare from Leena.

"I didn't make a mess," she stated with a queen-like regality.

"Did too," Tommy shot back, his brows ducking down in an expression Ana had seen cross Felix's face. "You broke an egg on the floor, _and_ you dumped flour."

"Only 'cause you pushed me! _And_ you let the butter get icky! _And_—"

"Beasties," Markl muttered in a warning, mildly joking tone, effectively quieting his children as they clambered onto the chairs surrounding the table. Ana noted that Tommy plopped down next to her without qualm, while Leena sat on the other side of her twin, keeping the distance of her brother between them. She nodded thanks to Markl, who helped her into her chair with the grace of a gentleman before making his way to the other side of the table to sit across from Tommy.

"It's OK," Ana said, leaning her elbows on the table as she leaned conspiratorially towards the twins. "One time I was helping my mom bake a cake, and she let me measure out the salt." Getting into the spirit of the story, Ana repeated the gestures she had made that long ago afternoon. "I was slowly measuring out the tiny teaspoon when…" the children leaned forward, their eyes wide. "The top popped off, and the entire container of salt flopped onto the dough!" Ana's eyes went comically wide, and the children giggled. "My mother took one look at me, then at the mess, and said 'I think you'd best just _supervise _from here on out_._'"

"That's what Papa Howl said!" Tommy exclaimed.

"Yeah, he put us on supervising duties." Leena finished.

"And what good supervisors you make," another lyrical voice added. Ana glanced over her shoulder as Tommy and Leena beemed. Sophie was exiting the neighboring kitchen with another woman at her side.

"Ana, this is Diane Sinclair, my old apprentice. Diane, this is Anastasia." Diane was easily as tall as Ana, if not a bit taller. With the luscious curves women dream after, she was feminine in the fullest. Her bright golden hair similar to the twins' was gathered up on her head in a sophisticated coif, and her eyes shone an uncanny amethyst. Her dress was elegant, a warm bronze muslin day gown. Quickly setting down the plates she was carrying on the table, Diane greeted Ana with a bright smile.

"I see you're doing better." Diane's voice was like dark silk; low, smooth, and lovely to feel.

"I am, thank you." When Diane gently grasped Ana's hand in a gesture of comfort, Ana noted the strange ripple of light that shivered over her violet irises. With a quirked mouth, Diane straightened.

"Well, then," she murmured, almost too low to hear. She offered Ana another smile and nod before making her graceful way around the head of the table to sit next to Markl across from Leena, who smiled at Diane without inhibition. Sophie passed out the plates with the efficiency of a mother, calling Howl over to the table in a purely wifely gesture.

"Howl, that toast must be done by now. Stop torturing us and let us eat." Howl turned from the hearth grandly, the scents wafting from the pan he brandished like a sword sinful.

"I am just making sure you all appreciate the effort I put into this breakfast, which is absolutely wonderful, if I do say so myself." The last part was said with a majestic, theatrical tone, and elicited giggles from Leena and Tommy. Grins spread over Diane and Markl's faces, and Sophie clamped her hands on her hips, trying her hardest to look stern and reprimanding. The loving smile breaking through ruined the effect.

They're happy, Ana realized with a jolt. An honestly happy family. It was truly a beautiful thing to see. Should whatever trouble chasing her be the cause to break such a rare gift, Ana would never forgive herself. Dutifully and determinedly pushing away her gloomy thoughts, Ana joined into the spirit of the room and anticipated the famed meal to come.

Howl served, and Ana didn't even question it. Once everyone had a plate of food, he bid in his wonderful voice, "Friends and family, enjoy. Have at it, little ones." The children dug into their food like a starting gun had sounded. Not even the angry "What, and nothing for me?" interrupted their fervor. Ana, however, looked around the room just short of wildly for the source of the new voice. Everyone else ignored it, and Ana bit her tongue on the question. Diane must have noticed her look of bemusement, and explained between bites.

"That's Calcifer, our resident fallen star and the source of the castle's power. You didn't give him anything, Howl?" He shrugged, and didn't look up from his plate.

"Markl, you were utterly useless this morning. Get Calcifer some more wood, would you?" Markl made the appropriate noises of disdain, making faces that caused his children to giggle over their mouthfuls of food as he stood. He muttered something that made Sophie cough, although it sounded more like a laugh from where Ana was sitting. Following his moves with her eyes, Ana finally saw the two little white eyes and pursed mouth floating in the fire Howl had cooked breakfast on. As Markl unceremoniously tossed a couple pieces of firewood on the little flame, Calcifer finally met Ana's eyes. As he munched on the wood, he looked at her with a considering expression.

"You're prettier when you're awake," the little flame suddenly said. Ana almost uttered a confused thanks when he continued. "Of course, you didn't have much to start with…" Her eyes narrowed dangerously, earning an approving laugh from Markl and Howl. Sophie glared at the little flame.

"I might not want to drink my juice if you say another word, Calcifer." The flame shrugged, but didn't appear very nonchalant. He didn't say anything more, and went back to munching on his fresh wood. Still puzzling over the latest development, Ana turned back to her food. The children were still shoveling as politely as they could manage. The adults ate with more reserve, but no less enjoyment. Over her wonderful breakfast, a plate of some sort of bread, similar to biscuits, cooked with butter, cinnamon and brown sugar, Ana observed the family around her.

Howl sat at the head of the table just to her right, and Ana's assumption that this was lord of the house was correct. His command was thorough, the respect for him resonating from everyone in the family. But it was Sophie who held it all together, and in whom the true power laid. She had provided the silverware, napkins, and juice Howl would never have considered. She quietly told the twins to put their napkins on their laps, and not let them fall to the floor from her queen's position at the other end of the table. Ana deduced this was a regular occurrence. She caught Markl's wink he threw at his children, and decided that he had been reprimanded for his manners by Sophie many times during his youth.

Diane was the puzzle. Her hair was just the shade of the twins', but no one had mentioned her marriage to Markl, let alone the mothering of the children. And from what Ana had seen, Tommy and Leena looked to Sophie as a motherly figure, which suggested that either they didn't trust Diane enough, or that she was more absent than Sophie. Either way, where exactly she stood in relation to Markl, Leena, and Tommy was a mystery.

The pace slowed, and conversation began to flow. Tommy and Leena still attacking their food like hyenas, the adults began to talk. It was a pleasant, warm flow of words, and Ana basked in it. The topics ranged from weather, health, to work. There Ana lost track of the conversation as references and words were thrown about with little explanation. Finally giving up in confusion, Ana merely enjoyed the warm hum of beautiful voices. Finally, Sophie said something that caught Ana's attention.

"How do you think Felix is doing?" Howl stayed silent, allowing Markl to speak.

"I'll go check on him, drag him down. Some food with do him good." Just as Markl pushed back from the table, a wonderfully familiar voice resonated from the top of the staircase.

"No dragging will be necessary, Markl. You're always too eager to bloody me up a bit." As one, seven pairs of eyes flew up to Felix, who strolled down the stairs with his lanky stride, looking devastatingly handsome and totally at home. He wore a clean linen shirt, a dark emerald waistcoat, and dark breeches. Ana's throat dried a little at what a picture he made.

Leena and Tommy simultaneously shrieked, "Uncle Felix!" before leaping out of their chairs and zooming across the room side by side. Sophie seemed to think about reminding them of at least putting the napkins on the table, but just shook her head with a sigh before bending to pick them up herself. Ana caught the small smile on Sophie's face, and knew her a little better for it.

Felix caught the twins with a groan, making all sorts of noises and faces as he jokingly struggled to pick them up. "When did my little ghoulies become such giants? I can… barely… lift you up!" he roared as he threw each one, laughing and screaming, over his shoulders. He made his comical, staggering way across the room slowly, but for all his complaints about his physical weakness, Ana could see that Felix's grip was strong and sure on the little bodies that were totally in his hands. Sliding a glance at Markl, she saw that the man trusted Felix with his children completely. His face didn't even flicker as Felix almost overbalanced on purpose, making the children squeal.

"Alright, Felix," Sophie finally said, unable to hold back the chuckle at the children's obvious joy. "Tommy and Leena have been eating like pigs, and if you keep that up, they're going to bring it back up all over you." Flashing a theatrical, horrified look at the children, which just made them laugh harder, Felix plopped their little feet back on the ground.

"Uncle Felix, Uncle Felix!" they chirped, using a whole different bid for attention. They both started talking at once, which drew Felix down to one knee to listen. Ana tried, but couldn't decipher their garble of words. Leena seemed to be talking about some animal she had a conversation with, and Tommy kept mentioning stones. While Ana was confused, Felix nodded, his face conveying total understanding.

"My, my, you two have been busy. We'll talk in depth later. Now go finish your breakfast before it gets cold," he commanded, patting them on the rumps as they turned and scampered back to their seats. As the proverbial prince of the realm, Felix started his round around the table. He first approached his mother, pressing a loving kiss to her cheek.

"Good morning, Mother. And how are you?"

"Fine, Felix," she said, her smile almost shy at the charm oozing out of her son. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm grand," he dismissed with a wave, stepping over to Diane's side. "And you, my lovely Diane," he said, delivering a smacking kiss to her cheek, as well. Deep down, so deep Ana refused to acknowledge it, a little flame of envy and jealousy briefly burned before she determinedly stamped it out. "You look as ravishing as ever."

"You aren't looking too shabby yourself, old man." The two grinned at eachother before Felix slid over to Markl's side. Punching the other man on the shoulder with some force, Felix then extended his hand for a rough shake.

"Drag me down, indeed. As if you could manage," he said in a gruffly masculine tone that Markl repeated. Felix tossed a wink to the twins, who snickered over their toast.

"Have to be certain you haven't turned into a sissy during your time away." Felix's face lit with a dazzling grin as he clapped a hand on Markl's broad shoulder. Turning to his father, Ana could see the joking light dim in his eyes, but the loving glow brighten.

"Father," he said simply, shaking Howl's hand with uncharacteristic solemnity. "It's good to be home." Howl clasped his son's hand.

"It's good to have you home. You did well, and chose the right course." The two remained still for a heartbeat, until Felix broke away, rounding his father to kneel at Ana's side. He had come to her. Saving her for last. Why, Ana couldn't guess. But she was certain now that it was right. He took his hand in hers, and their eyes held.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, and Ana felt the family watching at her back fade away.

"I'm fine, thanks to you. And your wonderful family." He grinned, running gentle fingers through her hair before standing.

"It's a joy to hear you say that," he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Now where can I get some food?" he said loudly to the table at large, purposefully breaking the intimate moment as he moved to the seat across from Ana. Rushing back to reality, Ana cursed her fair complexion as she noticed the contemplative expressions on Sophie and Diane's faces aimed her way as the twins raced eachother to get Felix food first, ending up spilling on the table and into their father's lap. Howl took charge, serving his son with a grin as he conveniently cleaned up the mess on the table with a wave of the hand, but left Markl to deal with his own mess. Markl complained about the toast now in his lap thanks to his children's overeager efforts, and Diane offered some sniping remark that earned a sneer from Markl. The two continued as the twins argued about who had dumped the food on their father's lap. Calcifer joined in from across the room, offering shouted inflammatory remarks for both quarrels. Sophie glanced between the two squabbles on either side of her, shook her head, and returned to her plate in surrender. Howl smiled serenely, and followed his wife's lead.

Ana watched the chaos and soaked up the noise with wide-eyed wonder. It was all so alive. Catching Felix's eye across the table, she focused on the knowing grin he shot her as he enjoyed his father's toast.

"Still think they're wonderful?" he muttered for her ears only.

"Absolutely," Ana returned without hesitation, smiling broadly as she ate another piece of toast.

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_Cookie to anyone who figures out what the title of the chapter means. It's actually not as hard as you may think… I'll tell you at the end of the next chapter. Anway, so what do you guys think? I added three more characters to my ever growing list, and I love each and every one of them. Strange story about the twins' names. I was set on a pair that were pretty decent, and I had used in the chapter a couple times. Then, when I was looking up a last name for Diane, I found out that Thomas meant twin. That was just too perfect, and I went looking for a girl name that also meant twin that was in no way derived from Thomas. Linnea was the result. Hope you guys like 'em!! My first true family scene, and it was really fun!! The mysteries will start unraveling soon. For now, they're just enjoying a yummy breakfast. _

_Also, if you're interested in drawing fanart for Sapphire Mage and post it on DeviantArt, let me know!! I would love to see it, and link it on my profile so all the other readers can see it and appreciate it too! Remember to toss me a review to tell me what you think. Fair warning, it's going to be a while until the next chapter. Considering I posted four chapters in just over a month, I think I earned a little break. With school starting and all that other crazy jazz, I've got to get a little settled, and then my nose will be back to the grindstone. Tentatively, I'd say you'd have to wait no more than a month for Ch 13. Hope you like it!!_


	13. Bents and Souls

Ch 13: Bents and Souls

The meal eventually wound down, and the children were pardoned, sprinting outside to burn off their energy, little streaks of youth and gold. Ana felt exhausted just watching their sheer vigor. After they denied her offer of help, Ana sleepily smiled as Markl and Diane competitively cleared the table. Howl settled down in his chair with regality, slipping half-moon reading glasses onto his long, aristocratic nose after snatching a small book from the side board, its dark leather cover engraved with what looked like silver foil and fragments of malachite. Sophie relaxed with a cup of tea, eyeing her husband until he glanced up with a smile. It was as charming and as breath-taking as the ones his son tossed around, and apparently it melted Sophie's concern.

Felix mirrored his mother, his shoulders and neck relaxing as he sipped on his cup of lightly creamed coffee. Markl snatched a newspaper from the kitchen before plopping his long, broad frame down on a hunter green couch in front of Calcifer. Relaxing her head back against the back of the chair, Ana closed her eyes, trying to wrestle her way clear of the pain that was sparking up and down her spine. It had kept quiet through most of breakfast, and had dimmed the greatest once Felix had descended the stairs. But as she stayed awake, alert, and aware, Ana could feel her bones weakening, her blood pounding through her veins harder than it should. Fighting hard enough to bring drops of sweat to her temple trying to regulate her breathing, Ana opened her eyes very slowly when gentle, cool fingers brushed her cheeks.

Diane's stunning face gazed down at her, a soft, worried smile on her bowed lips.

"I'm afraid we wore you out." Straightening hurriedly to deny such an accusation, Ana blinked against the stars that robbed her breath and swirled against the back of her closed eyelids. "No, not at all. Maybe I wasn't as ready as I believed myself to be," Ana murmured, pressing a numb hand to her forehead. She heard the screeching of wood as a chair was shoved back, closely followed by a deep voice. Ana knew she was very far gone when she couldn't tell if it was Howl or Felix.

"Hush. She's just tired. Ana, you'd best go relax upstairs." Peering through cloudy eyes, Ana could see that Howl was barely holding back his son, energy thrumming through Felix as if he were a plucked string, concern darkening his cobalt eyes. Markl hopped over the back of the couch, resting a hand on Felix's shoulder. Like a wolf pack, Ana could feel them closing ranks, moving as a well-oiled machine. It was a little intimidating, and the sensation of being prey snuck under her skin. No matter what, it would be best to follow Howl's advice, especially with her knees trembling and her bones shivering. Slowly taking to her feet with the tentative step of a woman four times her age, Ana was a little surprised when Diane gently clasped her elbow. Sophie suddenly appeared on her other side, and a brief glance over her shoulder confirmed that Howl and Markl now both stood, holding back Felix as politely as they could manage.

A family, they certainly were. But why had she expected it to stop there? They were wizards, warriors under that gentle veneer. They had such a lovely little community, but they protected their prince almost violently. What Ana wasn't sure about was whether they were protecting her, too, or protecting Felix from her.

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Sophie settled Ana down with the gentle efficiency of a mother. For a moment, Ana was awash with homesickness. It faded as the soft velvet of sleep closed in, but Ana dreamt of her family, a world that seemed eons away while she was tucked in on some stranger's couch in a neat study inside a moving castle.

Her nap was only about half an hour long—she awoke, completely alert, to a quiet room, totally alone. A gentle fall sun illuminated the dancing dust motes, little reeling stars in the hushed air. Rising from the couch hesitantly, Ana was gratified when the muscles in her legs wept, but held under her weight. A shiver stole across her shoulders as a draft whispered through the castle.

She dragged the blue and violet checked quilt off the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders before shuffling to the heavily carved oak door. It was lighter than it appeared, almost knocking Ana on the nose when it swung open easily, the hinges silent. Sighing as the gnawing sensation in her joints winked to life, Ana moved into the hallway, peering right, then left, then right again with the blinking deliberation of an owl. She knew the stairs down to the dining room were to the left, but the corridor to the right remained a mystery. The pain humming at lower levels than it had that morning, Ana noticed that the corridors were paneled in ash. Sturdy, yet elegant. It encompassed her hosts perfectly. Making her careful way down the hall, Ana stumped up a short, winding staircase.

The corridors branched, forked, and wound into labyrinthine proportions. Ana would stop at a divergence, totally unsure of where the rest of the castle's inhabitants were. A soft, cool breeze would tug at the ends of the quilt, pulling her down certain hallways and away from others. Eventually, Ana realized that a whisper of laughter rode on her guiding breath of wind. Someone, somewhere in the castle, was laughing, the silvery sound of joy.

Ana ultimately found herself before another oaken door, like the one to Sophie's study. The handle was faded platinum, the fastenings glowed dull silver. Just as she rested faintly shaking fingers on the metal, the door swiftly opened, the air rushing past Ana with one final sterling-toned note to rustle Sophie's silver hair.

The older woman stood on the other side of the door, a surprised lift to her silver brows and cool observation in her brown eyes.

"Come in, dear. Are you cold?" Sophie asked as Ana shuffled into the room, noticing the quilt draped over Ana's shoulders. Diane looked over her shoulder from her place before a wardrobe full of color and texture, her violet eyes warming as they lighted.

"I wasn't able to get warm. It seems like such hard work now," Ana murmured. Catching the way Sophie's eyes followed the quilt, Ana dragged it from her shoulders, her arms wavering under the weight as she held it out to the older woman.

"Is is special to you?" Ana asked quietly, relieved when Sophie's face softened, a smile lighting her dark eyes.

"No, no, it's alright." Sophie said, taking the quilt from Ana's hands to drape over her shoulders, steering the young woman into the room with a hand at the base of Ana's back.

"You're looking better since breakfast. How did you find us?" Diane said, following Ana's progress into the room with covert eyes in the mirror set into the wardrobe door. As Ana drew closer, she could see that the wardrobe was antique, made of cherry wood and sporting detailed carvings depicting celestial figures and mythical stories.

"Just wandering around," Ana said, taking the seat Sophie offered carefully. With an unintentionally loud sigh, Ana relaxed back, swallowing the whimper that bubbled in her throat. Suddenly, a thought flashed through Ana's head, bringing her jerking forward.

"My pack!" she breathed, her mind racing to the last time she had it. "The ambush. I had it during the ambush!" Sophie rested a gentle hand on her shoulder to calm her as Diane approached, a grubby little canvas bag hanging from her hand. As Ana deflated with relief, Diane grinned.

"I figured it was yours," she said triumphantly as she plopped it into Ana's lap. She fumbled with the ties, struggling with the water-tightened, muddy knot. Finally, the strings gave, and Ana lifted out her earth clothes. With a sigh, she rubbed her hands over the denim jeans, smiling at her U of L sweatshirt. Reverently, Ana withdrew the letter from her father. At the back of her mind, Ana admired Diane and Sophie's quiet patience as she reread the slightly faded letters on the parchment. In a split second decision, Ana handed the letter to Sophie.

"I first got this letter from my mother the day I crossed to this plane. This bracelet came with it," Ana explained, pulling back quilt and sleeve to reveal the silver bracelet gleaming against her skin, still bruised a violent black and purple shade, raucous against her porcelain skin. Diane cradled her hand to inspect the bruising closer, casting heavy glances at her preoccupied old master.

Sophie's eyes travelled quickly across the paper, small smiles flitting across her face like birds as tears gathered heavier and heavier, never falling, but glimmering on the rim of her eyes like stars. Eventually, she looked up, smiling sadly as she handed the letter back.

"I knew your father. He's a good man." Ana handed the letter to Diane with her eyes still plastered on Sophie. She had to swallow the shock that clouded her throat to speak.

"You… you knew my father?" Ana whispered as Sophie blinked away tears.

"He was Howl's best man at our wedding."

Diane and Ana gazed at Sophie with wide eyes as the seconds wound longer and longer, the unfettered silence glimmering in the air. Finally, Diane cleared her throat, drawing Ana's attention to her with a soft touch to her forearm.

"Do you mind?" Ana's brows furrowed, confused. Diane's amethyst eyes gestured to the pile of clothes in Ana's lap, her jeans and sweatshirt muddy and grass-stained, her t-shirt sweaty and blood-flecked. "They're rather in need of a good washing." Shaking her head clear of the revolving thoughts that still chased eachother in dancing circles in her mind, Ana nodded her consent, trying to reassure with a smile. She found it harder than expected.

Gathering up the clothes in her arms, Diane lifted a pinch of Ana's linen, mud-stained sleeve between reluctant fingertips, her nose wrinkled comically. "Let me guess," she sighed, apparently exasperated. "Felix got these from some poor stable hand, didn't he?"

"I… I believe so," Ana replied, unsuccessfully swallowing the chuckle that threatened at Diane's expression, a strange mating of disgust and disbelief.

"Tell you what," Diane continued, her face clearing and her eyes all business. "You can go next door and take a nice bath, and I can burn these rags and go make fun of Felix for forcing you to wear such an atrocious excuse for clothing." Ana rose, distracted from Sophie's statement about her father, as had been Diane's intent.

"They were part of my disguise!" Ana said laughingly as Diane escorted her to the bathroom. The other woman rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed.

"Of course they were," Diane muttered sarcastically, closing the bathroom door behind her. Cranking the brass knobs to full hot, she busied herself with providing towels and soap for Ana's bath. The steam quickly filled the room with the viscosity of fog, penetrating Ana's tight muscles and shivering bones. With a long sigh, she relaxed her hold on the quilt, folding it as best she could manage. Diane finally approached, taking the quilt from her arms and gesturing to the screen Ana could barely see through the steam.

"Go ahead and change out of those monstrosities. Take your time," she added. Ana shucked the horribly wrinkled, muddied clothes as best she could, taking more time than it would have normally required, her joints violently protesting the contortions required to wriggle her way free of the clothing. Wrapping a towel around herself, Ana emerged to hand her clothes to Diane.

"Go easy on him, OK?" Ana asked with a chuckle. "He's only a man, after all." Diane laughed approvingly, nodding her head as she made her way out of the bathroom, the open door casting a brief strike of light through the mist before it again closed. Ana was possessed by the strange sensation of being a ghost, floating through the white mist almost soundlessly. Cranking the water off, Ana set aside the towel and stepped into the huge porcelain clawed tub. It was like sinking into nirvana, this time long enough to appropriately accommodate her height. The water was hot enough to instantly turn her skin pink, and would have normally made her squeal. But as she had said, it seemed difficult for Ana to warm now—the heat was a welcome reprieve from the chill that never seemed to leave her. Picking up a bar of soap, this time scented of lilies, Ana went to work.

-_-_-_-_-_-

As Diane made her way back into her room, she couldn't help the muscles that tightened around her mouth, or her angry shake of her head. Apparently, Sophie noticed, which really shouldn't have surprised Diane.

"What is it?" Sophie asked, her voice that quiet, understanding tone that Diane could recognize in her sleep.

"She's in such pain, Sophie," Diane said quietly, mindful of the thin door separating her room from her occupied bathroom. Still, the emotion and concern in her tone was obvious. "I had hoped she would be showing signs of recovery by now, but the bruising isn't just on her wrist. It's all down her spine, and on her scalp. Neither of which she can see, of course, otherwise I'm sure she would have mentioned it. And they're so vivid! Those bruises were incurred a week ago—they should have started to fade by now, but they look as fresh as ever." As Sophie shook her head in anguish for her guest, Diane bit back her tongue. There were many things she had learned from Sophie that Diane had never grasped at home, besides the obvious craft of magic—one was humility. The other was the skill of listening.

"Howl told me of a few cases like Ana's. Most don't completely recovery until six months to a year after the incident. Some never regain the levels of their magic fully again. At the very least, Ana won't be able to walk normally again for another month. I don't know how long until she's without pain." Diane blanched, clearly contemplating her own mind set if such information was revealed to her.

"We can't tell her that," Diane whispered. Sophie nodded in assent as her pupil continued speaking. "I would go mad at such a prospect. We can only hope for her sake that she's an incredibly fast healer."

"She'll be welcome here to heal for as long as she needs, and wants. We have to figure out what exactly what we're going to do with the information presented to us," Sophie continued thoughtfully, referring to the letter and Felix and Ana's narrow escape from Apollo's perfumed clutches. Diane's eyes shifted, her mind drifting to the breakfast that morning. Just as she opened her mouth to tell Sophie something, the bathroom door cracked open, the steam leaking out in small, tentative breaths as Ana slipped out. Her dark hair was plastered to her white shoulders, thick cords of near black. Her eyes, faintly ringed with bruises, seemed huge in her face, her expression unsure and almost wary. A white towel was wrapped around her, the neutral bringing out the peach tone of her skin, pinked from the warm. She padded out on quiet feet, her hands shivering as she quickly began to chill.

"Here, Ana," Diane said as she tugged a warm fleece robe free of her wardrobe, draping it over the young woman's shoulders. She fumbled tiredly with the towel while trying to maintain her modesty; Diane and Sophie averted their eyes politely. Finally, she belted the robe with finality, flicking her heavy hair behind a shoulder and offering Diane a smile of gratitude, only a little weak.

"Come sit down, Ana. I'll brush your hair out," Sophie said, gesturing to the suede mahogany couch near the cherry wardrobe, which still stood open and ready. Diane had been sifting through her clothing when Ana had first entered the room and distracting her from her reluctant task. Once Ana was settled comfortably and Sophie began the first strokes through her thick hair, Diane turned back to the wardrobe, busying herself quietly. A dark grey dress, lovely but too small, spoke a brief message, one that rather surprised Diane. She set it aside, and continued without a thought. She assumed Ana wanted to sleep—perhaps that's why she was startled when she spoke instead.

"Why do your eyes shimmer sometimes?" Pausing as she looked over her shoulder, Diane looked first at Ana, then at Sophie, the smile that bloomed mimicking her teacher's.

"You are very observant, Ana. But I am not the one to explain—I find I am not the most patient of teachers. Sophie rationalizes it much better than I." With a nod, Sophie began to speak.

"There are many branches of magic, as I'm sure you can imagine. Some witches and wizards have what are called bents—very focused areas of magic in which they show skill. Others are called star-gazers. They are without bents, their focus is 'as broad as the stars in the sky.' Howl, Markl, and Felix are all star-gazers, though Felix shows advanced aptitude in several fields, too many to be labeled as bents." Sophie explained in a measured, scholarly voice.

"What's an example of a bent?" Ana asked. Diane could hear the curious tone in her voice, and, risking a look, was gratified to see a little sparkle of healthy color in her skin and eyes.

"Well," Sophie said with a smile, "I have one." Raising a hand, Sophie looked at the plant potted at the foot of the couch. With a small rippling of her fingers, the plant shivered, growing and moving until it blossomed into a giant magenta flower, similar to a lily. Tiny white blooms ringed it, little stars surrounding a bloody sun. "I know plants. I can control them, help them, and understand them." As Ana nodded in wonder and comprehension, Sophie continued. "The twins both have bents. Little Thomas is a stone mason. He can find gemstones like a bloodhound can find a scent. He can also work stones with far more ease than a man with a chisel and hammer. As he gets older, he'll be able to control them without touching them. Linnea has a way with animals, much like I have a way with plants. As animals are more dynamic, Leena can actually hold a conversation with them. At this point, she has to speak aloud to formulate her thought before sending it to the animal. As she progresses, she'll be able to project the thought silently, helping in the growth of the bond. And Diane has a bent," Sophie added quietly, her eyes intent on her pupil. "She is of a very rare bend, some of the most famous wizards in history included. Diane is a seer." The two women waited for a reaction from the third.

"You can see the future?" Ana asked quietly. Diane nodded regally in response. The younger was quiet for a moment before responding. "Prove it." Diane blinked, then let her lips spread in a very feline, noble smile as she pressed her fingertips gently to the window, the strange ripple of light shivering over her violet eyes.

"In twelve seconds, a rock is going to ping against the window. It's going to startle you, which will make you jump, which will cause Sophie to accidentally rip out a tangle in your hair she was trying to work out gently. You won't say anything, but it hurts enough to bring tears briefly to your eyes." Ana's eyes narrowed as she counted down the seconds. Her mouth twisted as she counted to fifteen before the rock rapped against the window, the events unfolding exactly how Diane had predicted it. "I had to fudge the time a little," she explained with a small grin. "Otherwise you would have been expecting it."

Ana had to blink back the tears before she spoke. "So what did you see when you met me for the first time at breakfast?" Diane's expression turned a little wary, her eyes flicking to Sophie before bouncing back to Ana.

"You… and Felix." Ana's expression was not the one Diane expected. It grew chilled, as if with the ice of fear.

"Were we running?" she whispered, her eyes telling Diane that she didn't really want to know the answer. It appeared that telling the truth would be the only way to appease her fear, a fear that was tying knots of guilt in Diane's stomach.

"No, no you weren't." Taking a breath and stealing a final glance as Sophie, Diane slowly spoke. "You were… making love."

The silence that resonated through the room was thick enough to slice and spread on bread. Ana froze, a hunted look on her face. Diane's only consolation was the fact that she no longer looked afraid. Finally, Sophie huffed, returning to the brushing of Ana's luxurious hair, which was drying to a most enchanting color.

"My son is an adult. I'm merely glad that he chose such a young woman as you, Anastasia, instead of some demon creature like Apollo." Ana's eyes flickered, something Diane noted with hawk-like attention.

"He has in no way chosen me," she said in a quiet, almost regretful voice.

"He will," Diane said with certainty. "I am very, _very_ rarely wrong," she added with another grin. With that, the conversation turned to lighter subjects, Sophie at much of the talk's helm. Diane was gratified to see Ana join in, offering her own, somewhat strange opinions on such things like clothes. Wearing breeches every day. Really now.

But Diane and Sophie discovered something they would never have guessed at before—Ana was funny, honest, and engaging. She made both Sophie and Diane laugh more than once with one of her silly expressions or little other-worldly quips. As her hair finally dried, Diane glanced at the dark dress she had set aside, and smiled.

"Change into this," she said as she offered the gown to Ana, who took the thin Calimar wool dress with care, gratitude twinkling in her eyes. Before Ana could say anything, Diane merely waved her into the bathroom. As the door clicked close, the teacher and the student spent a few moments in silence.

"Ana and Felix, then," Sophie murmured. Diane nodded.

"A sight that spawned from _both_ of them." After a moment, Sophie smiled, the curve honest.

"She's a lovely young woman. I rather like her." Diane smiled.

"I do, as well." Clearing her throat, Diane slipped on her leather ankle boots. "We should go out to the garden." Never one to argue about spending time with her plants, Sophie also pulled on her shoes. Just as she finished tying up the laces, Ana emerged from the bathroom.

"I knew it," Diane breathed. Her long hair braided loosely back and the dark folds of the dress accentuated by tiny flecks of silver, Ana looked like a goddess of the night. "Come on," Diane said, recovering faster than Sophie from the shock as she held out Ana's shoes. "We're going to get some fresh air."

----------

Felix fought to relax his spine and legs, but Ana's pale face and glassy eyes still haunted him, the effort of merely being awake robbing her of what little strength she had regained. Against Felix's advice, Howl had allowed Calcifer to stop the castle. Felix was concerned about them still being tailed, terrified of involving his family in the ugly chase that was unfolding. But somewhere in the rational part of him, Felix acknowledged that even a star could burn out. Restlessly, he paced the green field the twins had claimed as their playground, keeping one eye out for his niece and nephew. Tommy and Leena hadn't seen him in months—his last fireplace commune had been regretfully brief, right after he had joined with the band of gypsies. A private fire had been difficult to come by, and Felix had felt the separation deeply.

The children were very dear to their honorary uncle—it would take something only as worrisome as Ana's health to distract him from the joy of seeing the twins again. With a panther's aggression, he circled back to the rock where Howl and Markl lounged, the younger spreading his long frame back in what appeared to be a nap in the sun—Felix knew better. Markl kept a sharp ear out for any yips or cries from his children. If anything were to happen, Felix had no doubt Markl would be the first to be at his children's' side.

Howl leisurely sat on the ground, his legs crossed at the ankles with his back resting against Markl's rock, his sapphire gaze tracking Tommy and Leena as they romped through the grass in determined competition. Their proprietary grandfather, it always seemed to Felix that the reason his father did so well with children was that it had taken his marriage to Sophie for him to finally grow up.

With nervous energy, Felix tightened his course, merely circling Howl and Markl instead of circumventing the entire field. Finally, Howl loosed an impatient sigh through his nose, speaking in a surprisingly mild voice.

"Felix, sit down before you wear a furrow in the ground." Instead of sitting, Felix merely stood, vibrating with anxiety. "Felix, sit!" With a _humph_, Felix flopped down into a jumble of limbs. Tapping his foot against the ground to the beat of a hummingbird's heart, the man kept his cobalt eyes pinned on the castle.

"I am not a dog to be commanded to sit," he muttered, the venom born of worry worming its way into his tone. An uncouth snort erupted from Markl, who earned a scalding glare from Felix that would have burned off his eyebrows had he been able to see it.

"Down, Killer," Howl murmured, patting an understanding hand on Felix's stone-hard, corded shoulders. Howl sensed the growl resonating in his son's throat, laughing gently to defuse it. Instead, Felix's hackles rose higher. Markl's voice sleepily floated down from his splayed-out spot atop the sun-warmed granite entrenched in rich earth that had supported strong farm land decades ago.

"We could always dunk you in the lake to cool your hot head." Felix's anger peaked, then relaxed, Phantom Lake winking with charm not so far in the distance. With a soft laugh, just strong enough to avoid a tremble, he shook his head.

"Some family you are. Threatening physical violence and calling me derogatory names in the face of my distress. Mother would understand."

"Your mother is a woman," Howl said with finality. It was only here in the company of his men did he dare such a statement. And, in truth, he didn't even really mean it. Not anymore. Twenty years ago was a different matter. But as Sophie was fond of saying, he was, indeed, a changed man.

"She'd knock your block off if she heard that," Markl said, that lazy tone still in his voice. Howl shrugged, but they all knew that he was merely joking. Felix smiled, then sobered, his worried eyes flicking back to the castle, searching the windows, looking fruitlessly for a flash of light or color that would discern where Ana was.

"She looked so tired," Felix said quietly, speaking to no one but himself. But, of course, his companions had to answer.

"Of course she did. You would too," Markl stated, confident in Ana's strength to recover.

"Maybe we pushed her too hard. Her body is still recovering from what happened during the ambush." Felix's voice had never taken that tone before—worry, fear, and something none of the men were comfortable discussing.

"You know," Markl said as he levered himself upright, "I have yet to hear the whole fantastic tale. Everyone's being rather tight-lipped about what little they know. Care to elaborate, Felix?" The man sighed, smiling as the children caught his eye without any of his usual spark.

"Ana came through in a crossing near Luxton. I was planning on cutting down through the Ruby Forest before making my way to Kingsbury. But I was going to rest and stock up for a few days before moving on. Needless to say, when I saw a lightning crossing starting to build, my plans changed. As soon as she landed, I knew that Ana wasn't trained. She has massive potential in her blood—no doubt you already noticed that. But you must also have noticed that she has absolutely no training." Howl nodded, already having heard this fragment of the story.

"Were there any Arsalans in the area?" Markl asked, intent and involved in the account now.

"Of course," Felix muttered, a kernel of bitterness over that bit of rotten luck still burning in his gut. "And you can only imagine how much Apollo would lather after a prize such as Ana. It's like having your own personal comet. I couldn't allow her to fall into such hands."

"That, and she's rather gorgeous." Tommy and Leena looked up from their dirt-drawn treasure map at their father's yelp. He was rubbing his upper arm, and scowling at Felix, who had a small, vicious smile on his face.

"Needless to say, we had to move, quickly. I irritated the Arsalans a bit—"

"How much was a bit?" Howl asked, a concerned noted flitting through his voice.

"Well, they shot at me, so take that as you will."

"They shot at you?!" Markl yelled, still rubbing his sore arm.

"They threatened the town," Felix said, subsiding Howl and Markl's concern slightly. "Anyway, the next day, Ana and I made our way out of town, and we had to draw the Arsalans onto our trail to shift their focus, and vengeance, from Luxton. We made good progress, and by nightfall, had established a strong lead."

"Do I even want to know how you got your lead?" Markl groaned. Felix grinned that blade-keen, almost frightening smile his father knew so well.

"No, not really." Markl made another loud noise, which Felix promptly ignored before moving on with his tale.

"So the next morning, the day of the rainstorm—"

"The day you called us," Markl interrupted.

"Indeed. I had thought the Arsalans were still miles behind us. I echoed to check," he defended at the look on Howl's face. "I still don't know how they managed it. They split us up after bursting out of the bushes. I didn't think Ana would do anything—she has no powers to speak of. What could she do?" Felix shook his head, reliving the intense wonder of watching Ana's gift burst to life. "I created a diversion." Felix cleared his throat at Markl's expression with a small grin. It faded as he continued. "I told her to run. I still don't know why she didn't listen! Instead of running for cover—"

"And abandoning you," Howl interjected, his eyes deep and all too understanding.

"Well," Felix murmured, trying to regain the thread of his tale. His father's gaze dredged up the memory of his pounding heart as Felix had watched the light dance in Ana's predatory eyes. "She stayed. She stayed, and took on half a dozen Arsalans on her own. She conquered two before she commandeered a horse and a blade." Felix didn't see Markl's eyebrows as they winged up. "She showed full mind control—she knocked out a man and controlled an Arsalan's horse flawlessly. She mind-bound it to her," he added at the soft expressions of disbelief on Howl and Markl's faces.

"She took down three more with a skilled blade—I had no idea she'd ever wielded a sword before in her life! Then she faced down the sergeant, the last of her half-dozen attackers. She lit her blade," Felix stated, his voice heavy with meaning and understanding. Howl and Markl were quiet as they contemplated the implications of Ana's actions. War magic was one of the most difficult, taxing branches of magic, the other being shape-shifting. And lighting a blade was equal only to creating your own. It had kept Howl up late at night to contemplate his son's growing ability in the craft of battle magic.

"She charged the sergeant when…" Felix drew a breath, the fear in that memory constricting his throat. Suddenly, the twins came charging over, wrapping sticky, dirty little hands around Felix's wrists as they hauled him to his feet.

"Come on, Uncle Felix! Come on! We're playing pirates, and you need to be our captain!" Leena and Tommy cried determinedly, their little voices bouncing off eachother's like bubbles floating through the air. Swallowing back the emotion that had filled his lungs and pushed his heart up his throat, Felix leapt to his feet, excitedly discussing his pirate name with the children. They walked away, Tommy and Leena arguing over how bloody Felix's pirate name should be. Watching them go with wise eyes, Howl knew Markl's question before he spoke it.

"So—"

"What happened?" Howl finished. "Ana's light went out just as she urged her mount forward." Markl swallowed audibly, and Howl felt his lips crook, knowing that his old apprentice understood just how dangerous such an occurrence was. "No doubt she began vomiting blood, and bleeding from the ears and nose would be expected. Later, she would have undergone periods of blindness, hacking coughing, and strange warping of time. If she didn't die, she should have gone mad."

"How did Ana survive?" Markl murmured, his voice instinctively lowered as the children and Felix ran near, then looped away again.

"Her survival lay in two quarters, according to my theory. Felix was regrettably brief when we discussed this earlier. The first lies, of course, in Felix. You won't be surprised to hear that he used his own soul, gift, and will to keep Ana alive. By all rights, she should be dead, and very possibly Felix, as well. And even with his involvement, that wouldn't have been enough. Ana's body had basically been electrified by magic—it was tearing itself apart to compensate"

"Then how is it she had breakfast with us this morning? Albeit, pale and weak, but she was there, speaking, moving, even joking with Leena and Tommy. How could she survive such a destruction of her system?" Markl sounded puzzled, almost worried. Howl smiled his mysterious, soft smile, which did little to appease his old apprentice.

"The other answer lies in Anastasia herself. All of us, even Felix, underestimated just how strong her soul is. None would deny that her gift is inordinately powerful for someone so untrained. But a powerful gift doesn't always mean a strong soul. Ana possesses both. The gift without the soul is a very dangerous combination, one that would have led to her death if that had been the case. Her strength lies in her heart. And in her breeding." Markl's brows furrowed, his dark eyes sharpening at the strange tone Howl's voice undertook.

"Her breeding? You make her sound like she's a horse." Howl softly chuckled, amused at Markl's defense of Ana.

"Our Anastasia is none other than the daughter of Jason O'Neill." At Markl's puzzled look, Howl explained. "Yes, I suppose it was before your time, and I never told you the tale. Jason O'Neill was a classmate of mine when I attended the Royal Academy. His family was my foster family, and we came to be very good friends."

"You're talking about Viator, the Dimension Wizard? I heard he died decades ago."

"His mentor did. Jason merely took up the mantle. Although I can't say if he's alive now. I haven't heard from him in quite a few years."

"So that's why you trust her? Because you were friends with her father?" Markl asked, his eyes flicking protectively to his children.

"Only partially," Howl said, very quietly, his voice smooth and low. "I trust Anastasia because she came to breakfast. I trust her because she told Leena and Tommy a story from her youth. I trust her because Felix looks at her the way I look at Sophie. And I trust her because she didn't run. She stayed, and fought alongside my son." Markl was silent for a moment before he spoke again.

"You noticed that, did you?" Howl snorted.

"You'd have to be blind to not notice the way they look at eachother."

"Which means they're both blind as bats." Markl stated decisively.

"Of course. Since when can we ever see the ones we truly love until we're forced to?" Howl murmured with the comfort of realized love before Markl, who looked a little hunted, could reply. "And this current state is not the most conducive to the development of relationships." Markl's brow lifted.

"What makes you say that?" Howl's eyes darkened, the slightest breeze stirring the tail of his queue.

"Can't you sense it? A storm, brewing on the horizon. It's come to this land before. I had hoped I would never see it again in my lifetime." Markl's eyes went unfocused, that same phantom wind gently stirring his short auburn hair. He blinked, and nodded, saying the word that made Howl's teeth grind.

"It's to be war, then."

"It would seem so." Both men turned their eyes to the trio gallivanting in the meadow as patchy clouds made their way over the sun, the light weaving in and out, the shadows fine as lace. The children had just attacked their captain, taking Felix down to the dirt. Although the element of surprise was on the twins' side, Felix quickly enacted his deadliest weapon—tickling. With a sharply honed gift, almost preternatural, Howl glanced over his shoulder at the castle as the children giggled and squealed helplessly. Up in the garden, a trio approached the railing, leaning over to watch the joy unfolding down in the meadow. Despite his failing eyes, Howl picked out the gleam of his wife's starlight hair, eerily making eye contact that surprised neither. Next to Sophie stood the slim figure of Anastasia, almost ethereal in a gown of silver-flecked charcoal. And flanking her other side was Diane, resplendent as a princess in her amber dress.

Markl's gaze followed his, but Howl knew his eyes locked on the princess, not the mother. That didn't surprise the wizard, either. "This is to be your war," Howl said quietly to Markl, who made no mistake as to what he meant. "Sophie and I… We'll protect the children." It was almost a joke, but as blue eyes clicked to mahogany ones, the intent, and trust, was as strong as thunder. Markl had no doubt that his adoptive parents would protect his children with their very lives. Turning his gaze from Howl to Felix and his children, Markl thought of his little brother and Felix's woman. It would be up to him and Diane, then, to protect them.

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_I'M BACK!!! How're y'all doing? OK, it's ridiculously long, I am totally aware of that. But I promised you guys some explanation—well, here you go. Not much to say that I didn't already say in my crazy little fluff chapter. Enjoy this one; it's a beast of a chapter. Thank Castor-Leigh—you da' bomb. You know why. Review if you want to see another one any time soon. Hope you like it!!!_


	14. Gleaming Wolf and Midnight Butterfly

Ch 14: Gleaming Wolf and Midnight Butterfly

For all of Ingary's well-tended image of a happy, wealthy country, it wasn't without its woes. One of the land's ugliest eyesores was Vereor Castle, practically straddling the Ingary-Strangia border. While its ivy-laced battlements and cobweb-adorned arrow slits may have witnessed grand battles ages past, it now served out the twilight of its legacy as a prison. Men sent this far west were the lowest of society—the most ruthless and bloodthirsty never felt daylight on their skin after their internment until they were carted out of the castle in a wheelbarrow for the dead.

Today was a strange day; there were visitors to Vereor, an unheard-of occasion. A carriage, hitched to four nervous, twitching blacks, waited outside, beyond the dried-up moat and the lowered bridge. The gaping jaws of the portcullis were begrimed by decades of rust, dirt, and water scum. However, their pointed edges were as menacing as ever. Guards hid in the shadows, more interested in the lone figure emerging from the depths of the castle than any possibility of an escaping prisoner. No one ever escaped from Vereor. The closest village in Ingary, which was technically the castle's patron country, was 10 days ride, 14 at least on foot. Without provisions, it could be a death sentence. At least if you stayed, you knew how and when you would die.

The figure lifted its face to the sun, revealing feminine features and startling grey eyes to the guards. The trip ahead of her would be far shorter. Where she was destined, no man, not even a desperate prisoner, would dare tread.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she called to them, waving a hand like departing royalty as the gracious, lilting tone of her voice carried in the quiet, still air. She returned her eyes to the path, the shadow of her cloak's hood again hiding her face. The cloak was purple, so dark it was almost black. It parted as she walked to reveal a dark crimson gown, velvet in its texture, to the weak rays of the sun. What little the beauty-starved eyes of the men could see was embellished with black lace and silver thread. Of moderate height and indiscernible build due to the long folds of her billowing cloak, the woman still captivated the hapless guards, striding from their midst like a dark butterfly. Alone, she crossed the bridge, the door to the carriage, without seal or coat of arms, flinging open with a bang at her approach.

She climbed into the carriage without question or hesitation, gathering her heavy skirts in her hands expertly. A quick three raps sounded on the roof of the carriage and the suspiciously shaped coachman, who had been hunched over, utterly still, jumped to life. He snapped the reins, sending the four jittery blacks leaping forward. Inside the carriage, the woman lowered her hood, revealing fair, milky skin and a black fall of raven hair.

"Well?" a dark voice asked, resonating from the unlit corners of the carriage. Anyone else would have appeared disconcerted at the sound's strange ability to resonate throughout the entire carriage when it truly came only from one especially dark corner. The ghost gypsy, however, was totally unfazed. She had known this wizard since a very tender, impressionable age. Even when he did surprise her, she had learned not to show it.

At his question, she smiled, a faint, smug expression, curving thin, bowed lips. "17 in all, my lord. Most of them have only a basic grasp of the craft, and would be utilized realistically as foot soldiers."

"Impress me, Victoria," the disembodied voice drawled, the lazy, unimpressed tone searing fear into the woman's bones. However, an accomplished actress, Victoria Charles merely allowed her smile to widen, revealing small, white teeth. "Five are blood mages, there is no doubt." A shift of muscle, a rustle of fabric, and suddenly the weak light lancing through the carriage windows illuminated the carved bones of a noble's face. Her master, lord, and teacher, Victoria inclined her head respectfully as Lord Gabriel Apollo leaned forward, his long-fingered hands laced and hanging negligently between his knees. His dark eyes burned in the soft black, and the shiver of fear, instead of wrenching her gut, sent a wonderful shiver sizzling through her blood. Victoria had been so deeply connected to the aristocrat for so long that she had come to relish the sensation of fear. If she didn't, she would have gone agonizingly mad long ago.

Moving so quickly she didn't have time to draw a breath, Gabriel shot forward, his hand clasping almost violently at the back of her neck, pulling her a little forward. Gently, he smelled the dark hair at Victoria's temple, his lips hovering a mere whisper above her sensitive skin. She could feel her blood pulsing against his touch, and swallowed the saliva that pooled in her mouth noisily. His hand moved from her neck down around to her collarbone, tracing it gently out to her shoulder under the cloak as he relaxed back, lingering on the point where the dress began on the point of her collarbone.

"Blood mages," Gabriel repeated, his hand still as he considered. However, it fisted threateningly in the velvet as his eyes turned hard, his knuckles grinding into her pale skin. "Only five, Victoria? I'd hate to think you're losing your touch." The words were a menace, one that threatened her very life. However, unlike Sylvia ever could, Victoria allowed herself to relax. She loved this man, always had. As long as she was worthy, he would never harm her. Sometimes, when his anger grew out of control, he couldn't be responsible for his actions. She had to believe that, too.

"I cannot find what isn't there, Lord Gabriel. Perhaps another prison—" she stopped as he jerked away, lounging back into the shadows with the bad-tempered snarl of a shadow panther. He was moody, Victoria could tell. Travelling never put her lord in very good spirits. He didn't have the patience for it. Smoothing the crushed velvet on her shoulder, she leaned forward, gently resting feather-light fingertips on his kneecap. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and Victoria was assailed by the intense sensation that her hand was breaking. However, she had suffered worse in the midst of her beloved's anger before, and merely waited it out. Eventually it waned, and she dared to speak.

"Blood mages are always a valuable asset. The king will never expect it—he's too weak to peruse the prisons carefully. You were brilliant to look for aid there, we both know that. And while only five are in Vereor, there are more elsewhere. We have time yet, my lord. The battle will not be waged for another half dozen turns of the moon. Our search has only just begun." Gabriel's full lips tightened, then relaxed. A wolfish smile curved his lips, his dark eyes sparkling as he shifted forward, cradling Victoria's face, his fingers without menace and his eyes almost warm.

"Very true, Victoria. I remember now why I keep you alive." His lips touched hers, and Victoria closed her eyes in bliss. She melted into his touch, her fingers curling into his black greatcoat at his ribs. Gabriel slid his fingers into her loose hair, sinfully using his lips to bring her completely under his control. Victoria was so deeply in love, she didn't even fight or object the domination. This was what she wanted; this was how she would earn, and keep, his trust. Gabriel groaned quietly against her lips as he deepened the kiss, Victoria's mind going foggy as he used his tongue and hands like a demon. She reveled in the sensation of his fingertips grazing her skin as his lips dominated her, her brain awash with sensation and without conscious thought.

When Gabriel pulled away, Victoria choked back the whimper of disappointment that boiled in her lungs, still heaving a little from lack of air. She had forgotten that she was holding her breath as soon as Gabriel had touched her. He settled back on his seat comfortably, the smug expression of a tawny in his hooded, ink black eyes. Once, Victoria opened her mouth to speak. Gabriel held up a finger for silence, and the ghost gypsy lapsed back against the squabs, her heart still racing.

The rest of the carriage ride was draped in awkward silence—Gabriel's content, arrogant expression melting away as his musings turned inward. Victoria knew better than to interrupt his thoughts, no matter how unfulfilled and tightly strung she felt. From the cast of his eyes, Victoria knew that Gabriel was treading the dark, murky paths of his past. She knew quite a bit about her master's family, all of it information gleaned from sources not Lord Apollo himself.

However, Victoria would rather die than reveal her master's past. Hers was far more haunting, and far easier to tread within the confines of her own head while she carefully gave a thought Gabriel privacy with his own thoughts. A beggar child starving to death on a cold Kingsbury street, Victoria had been a nameless vagabond, and would have disappeared to time as readily as the hundreds of others like her had it not been for Gabriel. His intentions, however good Victoria interpreted them to be, had not been honorable.

Gabriel had been perusing the streets, searching for another young subject for his infamous experiments when his senses had nearly skyrocketed. He later said it had felt like his eyes were set aflame, his muscles quivering and his hands shaking. Frantic, he had glanced around, peering through the snowflake-laced darkness, searching for the wizard that emitted such a powerful brand of magic, the likes of which he couldn't even begin to identify. It wasn't a stargazer, and it was no bent he had ever sensed before. Finally, Gabriel had noticed a quivering lump in the mouth of an alley, what he had originally assumed was a mound of trash. The smell suggested as much.

Extending a black kidskin-gloved hand, Gabriel had wrenched aside a tattered canvas tarp, stained with what appeared to be excrement. A stunted little creature gazed up at him with giant grey eyes. It was from this small child that the intense aura of power was resonating from. Gabriel blinked a few times, then allowed his face to crack into a smile. Victoria looked back and was ashamed at how she squealed and shrank back in terror at the gleam of wolf teeth that sparkled from the noble's pale face. Snatching her arm with speed of a cobra, Gabriel had dragged Victoria free of the wretched rags, pulling her into the light.

The little thing that she was then struggled weakly, and once Gabriel nodded to himself in approval, he squeezed her ragged temples brusquely. Her eerie grey eyes went foggy, then slowly shut. Slinging her limp, thin frame over his shoulder, Gabriel had performed a simple trick of invisibility before he walked home. He thought to himself that night that the child would live no longer than a week, but would certainly prove interesting.

She lived for much longer than that. Victoria survived the excruciating week of torture, much to the duke's surprise. Puzzled as to what to do with this ridiculously powerful little creature, Gabriel eventually came to the logical conclusion of bringing such power under his control. It was then that Victoria switched from experiment to apprentice, and fell in love with him for it. She saw the way he interacted with others, and lived in the smug comfort that Gabriel never hit her as much as he hit other people, mainly the servants. She was only 12 at this point, and had already pledged her heart, indeed, her life, to the Duke of Hawkthorne.

Eventually Gabriel came to an understanding as to the peculiar bent of Victoria's power. He had thought it was a myth; a living example hadn't been seen or recorded in centuries. Victoria was a Tracker. Every witch or wizard exudes a certain aura—they have certain colors, and can be sensed by anyone with training. However, Victoria's gift went beyond that. Not only could she find wizards who suppressed their aura, but she could find those still untrained whose auras hadn't even been illuminated yet. For most with the gift, trying to find such people, especially over long distance, was a fruitless, frustrating task. But Victoria just shut her eyes, placed her fingertips in water, and could track down any sort of bent or blip of magic, no matter how dim or hidden. She could differentiate between stargazers and those with bents, and could discern what bent as if it were written on the wizard's forehead.

Ever since those first trial weeks, Gabriel had kept Victoria close at his side. She was loyal to a fault, intelligent, and gifted. She was organized, discreet, and beautiful. And she was always, always willing. What man could fault such a woman? However, Lord Gabriel was an incredibly discerning man, and inevitably found faults in the young woman. They were beaten out of Victoria quickly, and she appreciated the instruction. Even though she had scars to remember her faults by. She never blamed him, never found fault in his action. Victoria loved the disgraced Duke with everything she had. And was rewarded only fractionally. But for Victoria, it was enough.

As the carriage jerked to a halt, Victoria glanced out the dark windows in surprise. She had been so deep in thought, she hadn't noticed that they had closed the final miles to Black Cliffs Estate. Gabriel had bought the land and manor from an aging, ill baron for a song. No one noticed when the old man had died in his sleep not days after the sale. He had no relatives to whom the money would go to, so it was returned to the only man who had claim to it—Gabriel. Ever since he had been exiled from Ingary, Gabriel had called the neighboring kingdom of Strangia home. Still bitter over the loss of his birthright, Hawkthorne Park, Gabriel consoled himself with his control of Black Cliffs Estate. However, Victoria knew it to be a shallow victory, one that still pricked at Gabriel's enormous pride even now.

Having resurfaced from his foul mood, Gabriel opened the carriage door and descended first, handing Victoria down out of the carriage with the finesse of a true gentleman. He didn't like allowing the shadow fiends in his employ to touch Victoria. No one but the lord of the manor had that privilege. He presented his arm with silent grace, and as Victoria accepted with a lady-like nod, they ascended the front steps in congenial silence. Inside, she glowed at his show of courtly affection. Outside, she presented a calm, cool façade, the one she had learned from Gabriel himself.

As they entered the large, dark manor, a shadow fiend in the dress of a butler took their coats, cloaks, and gloves. Since Gabriel hadn't dismissed her, Victoria followed the Duke down the hall and into the winding corridors of the manor's first floor. They skirted around the library and strode past the many dining halls. Besides its obvious quality and wealth, there was another reason Gabriel had chosen Black Cliffs Estate as his place of residence in the interim between his youth and his future on the throne. It was one of the last places on the continent that still housed dungeons. The manor was actually a converted castle, and under all the rich, heavy adornments and miles of paneled corridors and sumptuously decorated rooms hid the underbelly of what was once Black Cliffs Castle. Gabriel had smiled his wolf smile when he had first stepped from the carriage and beheld the manor for the first time. The dark, desperate energy writhing from the earth itself almost made him shiver in delight.

Even now, the innards of the manor itself were starting to change. The wood and tapestries disappeared; all that was left was the cold cut of granite, the path barely lit by flickering, sparse torches. Yet Gabriel's tread remained steady and sure, his black eyes seeing with deadly accuracy in the pervading darkness. Victoria followed him more with her sense of magic than her eyes; her lord exuded an incredibly intoxicating, mind-consuming aura of power.

As the pair spiraled down a rough-hewn, dank staircase, Victoria heard faint screaming bouncing up the halls before the call of misery dispersed into the moist air. It was a sound she had become used to a long time ago. She refused to admit that deep down, it irked her; in Victoria's mind, she was numb. Gabriel strode past his laboratory, the area from which the screaming echoed. It pitched higher as the two strode by, sobbing uncontrollably. Victoria refused to look.

Instead, Gabriel led the way into his study, a handsome room decorated mostly in ebony and mahogany. Snatching a large roll from beside his desk, the duke spread a map of Ingary across his broad desk, weighing down the corners with small black sculptures of wolves. Placing a bowl of water on the map, present exactly for his purpose, Gabriel then seated himself in his high-backed chair, rocking back as he laced his fingers over his flat stomach and pinned Victoria with those hell-dark eyes.

"Find them, Victoria. You said there would be more, in other prisons. So find them." His words were said in the flattest, most dangerous of tones. She had soothed his pride, but not his mind. Her lord demanded much from his assistant; it was no surprise that he expected her to deliver. Victoria stepped up to the desk, resting her fingers gently in the water. Smoothing her other hand over the map, she shut her eyes to the howling of the wind in her head.

When she slammed back into her body, Victoria gasped, swallowing frantically against the retching of her stomach. Wringing her hands, which were painfully numb, together, Victoria strove frantically to regain her control. Gabriel expected immediate recovery from his pupil, and still sat, completely still with eyes expectantly raised, behind his masculine ebony desk.

"Well?" he murmured, ever so gently while his teeth flashed dangerously. Victoria swallowed one more time, just to be certain her voice would work.

"To the north. Kirrigan Prison." Gabriel rose soundlessly, pressing his palms on the map as he leaned forward.

"How many, Victoria?" he hissed, and Victoria swallowed against the bile that shot up her throat.

"42 have the gift," Victoria gasped. "Including four Taranaks and 12 blood mages." Gabriel rounded the desk, taking Victoria's face in his hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead. In the background, the apprentice could hear the screams crescendo as her master slipped his arms around her, swaying her into a dance to the rhythm of death down the hall. She didn't know how long they swayed together, only that it was moments like these, moments of unspoken, obvious affection, that she lived for. Not even the pathetic gurgles and sobs from the laboratory could interrupt the magic no wizard could capture.

Eventually, Gabriel turned his head into her hair, murmuring in her ear. "Expect me tonight. I want to see you in red." With that, he released Victoria almost callously, striding eagerly down the hall to the laboratory as whatever was dying in the room gave one final wheezing shriek. Resigned, Victoria made to follow him. But she smiled softly remembering the way he'd held her hand as they had danced. His hands were now covered in blood as she turned into the flickering light of the lanterns of the laboratory. But when she dreamed, they were threaded through her hair, clean and gentle.

It was those images she remembered. It was those moments that made her. Victoria didn't let anything else matter. Gabriel was her master, her teacher, and her lover. No matter what he did, no matter how he schemed, she would love him until the day she died—and Victoria was fully aware that her death would most likely be for him. Some things were just worth dying for.

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_Hey kiddos!! Say hello to Victoria. She is a very interesting character, in that she would be totally normal, and you'd probably really like her, if she wasn't so intrinsically involved with Gabriel. And her love is almost pathetic, and she's really a tragic figure. Super unique in my spread of characters, and one that has yet to really decide her own fate in the story. Oh, and when I mention Gabriel resembling a tawny, that's this world's equivalent of a puma._

_You guys are going to hate me. I'm doing the NaNoWriMo (for those of you that don't know what it is, look it up) and Sapphire Mage is not my story. Don't kill me, it's against the rules!! (It has to be a totally new story—no material can be written before the start of November) It's unlikely that I'll get another chapter out before November, but I'm going to do my best. However, if you don't see one in what's left of October, you won't see one until December. I'm truly sorry, but this is a journey I _have_ to take. I'll come away a better writer for it, I promise you, and that can only benefit Sapphire Mage._

_With that out of the way, I have a couple things that I want to mention. One, you guys surprised me—I thought _somebody_ would be crazy curious and look up what "rodzina" meant. I would have. But since no one did, I'll tell you. It's Polish for "family." (Ah! That makes sense now.) Also, this goes way back, but the title of Ch 5 (Fireside Chat) is a reference to FDR's radio broadcasts he made during his presidency. In Ch 7, the reference to the Princess Bride is when Felix says, "As you wish." That's Wesley's signature thing he says to Buttercup. Laurel already got the cookie on Gabriel's middle name (Alucard spelled backwards is Dracula. Whoa! Anyone who watched Hellsing probably caught that.) Also, huge shout-out to Doctor It! Not only did they review like a madman, which helped this chapter insanely, but they drew me fan art!! Happy day!! Check out my profile for a link. A surprising choice on the scene. Huge kudos for undertaking such a challenge!_

_That's about it. Review. Fan art. Same old, same old. Much love, Tango._


	15. Ignus

Ch 15: Ignus

Later that day, Ana found herself back out on the balcony garden Diane and Sophie had taken her to earlier. Two chaises looked out over the groomed grass of the lawn that shimmered gently as the castle made its ponderous way west. Ana had been rendered speechless when she'd first watched the castle creak to its spindly, bird-like feet and start to stride across the terrain. She couldn't really describe the sheer magic of it even hours later, and had blushed at Sophie's proud, delighted laugh at her blatant amazement.

After a light, energetic lunch, the family again fractured, Markl following the children patiently until they dropped into reluctant naps. Diane left through a door that still wildly confused Ana, saying cheerfully that she had some errands to run. Felix had glared with molten intensity, but was duly ignored by the young woman, who strolled out without a qualm after pressing a mischievous kiss to Felix's cheek. Howl returned to his mysterious library; Ana sensed something of a recluse in him. Felix eventually followed, murmuring quietly that he had something to discuss with his father. A gentle brush of his hand on her shoulder as he passed left Ana puzzled and warm, thinking awkwardly of Diane's prediction. Sophie settled before the fire to knit, carrying on a congenial conversation with a tired Calcifer.

Which left Ana feeling bored, and still very curious of her expansive surroundings. Ana pardoned herself, limping up the stairs under Sophie's covert watch. As if to test herself, Ana made her way back to the balcony. It scored her pride to stop and rest four times during the journey, but she eventually arrived at the sturdy wooden door that guarded the entrance to the garden. As she stepped out into the open air, Ana drew a deep breath into her hesitant lungs, forcing the expansion despite the pain that rippled along her ribs. Tilting her face up, Ana squinted against the ivory light of the sun glowing behind pearly clouds. In the distance, picturesque violet mountains were laced with clouds, their hearts just blue enough to threaten rain. Or maybe it would snow. Ana couldn't begin to guess, as the current season behaved in a very vague manner.

Bringing her eyes back to the garden, a smile spread across her face as she inspected Sophie's domain more closely than she had this morning. Little star-shaped blooms with the coloring pattern of pansies bobbed cheerfully along most of the garden's perimeter. The railing was coated with a sort of curling ivy that had a faint bluish tone, like a blue fir tree. Walking on wavering knees and ankles prone to giving out from under her weight, Ana slowly approached the rail. As she grasped the railing with a tight grip and leaned forward, the wind suddenly kicked up, tugging at the wisps of hair that wriggled free of her loose braid, the tail of it stirring against her spine. As she drew another breath of the cleansing air, Ana let her eyes slide close as peace settled and spread like a warm blanket. In all honesty, she had never been this happy on Earth.

She had slept in some of the worse conditions in her life. She had been chased by ruthless soldiers for reasons she still didn't quite comprehend. Not to mention that little episode when she had courted death with fatal earnestness. But despite all of this, or maybe because of it, she had begun to unlock parts of her spirit left cold and untouched her entire life. Perhaps that explained the controlling and logical tendencies Ana had adopted on Earth—because she had known, deep in her blood and bones, that something wild and magical and _true_ within her was just waiting to be unleashed.

Ana's quiet musings were interrupted when she heard the door open quietly. Felix emerged from the dimly lit innards of the castle, the wind ruffling his short midnight hair and the blaze of light catching the blue irises of his eyes. The smile that lit Ana's face was instant, and warm. She noticed Felix's perusal of her perch, and the worry that wove along the silver streaks in his eyes. The worry warmed Ana, who stepped back to mollify the wizard. As he stepped up next to her, carefully avoiding his mother's flowers, Felix allowed his brows to relax as he laced his fingers and braced his forearms against the railing.

"You needn't worry, Felix," Ana said, a smile almost tangible in her voice. "I'm doing better." Felix glanced over at her, a small grin tilting one side of his well-shaped mouth.

"I admit, you're recovering faster than any of us had hoped. But that doesn't mean it's wise to push yourself." Swallowing back the bashful grin that bubbled, Ana sharpened it before aiming it at Felix.

"You sound like my mother, Felix," Ana murmured, smiling more deeply at the embarrassed lift to Felix's dark brows.

"I do not!" he muttered indignantly. Ana hummed noncommittally, enjoying the wizard's brief discomfiture. Now he knew a fraction of what she felt entirely too often during a day. Clearing his throat, Felix tried to regain his composure and focus. He had something important to discuss with Ana, something that he found himself strangely reluctant to bring up. Her return to her own world.

"Ana… come. Let's sit," he said quietly, leading the way to the white pine chaises, settling stiffly on the old wood. He could faintly remember the days when the Witch of the Waste, who insisted that he call her Grandma Lauren, would settle creakily onto one of these chairs, watching the world fly by as Heen lay snoozing at her feet. The little dog had outlived her, with the wise light in his droopy eyes until his last day.

Watching Ana closely as she settled onto the old wood, Felix's gaze was close enough to catch the small wince in her emerald eyes as she stressed her major joints, but just as closely noted the lack of noise. She said not a word, even as she loosed a sigh, relaxing her tight spine back. Ana was in pain, even now. She was getting better, but not fast enough to ease the guilt and worry weighing at Felix's shoulders. He didn't notice his brows draw together, nor the way his blue eyes darkened in concern.

Lacing his fingers tightly together in a stance that his father often adopted, Felix regained Ana's gaze before continuing. "I—I spoke with my father," he began, aghast that he stuttered. Tightening his jaw, Felix continued, the lines of his face fierce and, under the forbidding air, a little sad. "We researched the best days to return you to your world. It depends on the alignment of a certain set of stars. Anyway, we found that the next time you can leave is… well, it's tonight." Felix paused as Ana slowly blinked, clearly blindsided by the news. "If we wait, you won't be able to leave for another seven months," Felix quickly adding, noting the panic and, strangely enough, hurt in Ana's eyes. The emotion didn't really clear from her green irises, but she was quickly absorbing the news. Valiantly, she tried to smile.

"So eager to get rid of me already, Felix?" she teased, only her mouth smiling as her eyes accused. Resisting the urge to rub his chest, which felt as if it had been pierced with an arrow, Felix shook his head, allowing only a fraction of the fear for her sneak into his voice.

"Hardly. No, I'm worried for your safety, Ana. You'll be safer in your own world, away from Apollo." _And me_, Felix thought, gritting his teeth against the sensation that his heart was collapsing. Ana pursed her lips, leaving Felix bemused. She looked like she was wrestling with a difficult decision. He might have allowed her to make the decision regarding their friendship after his hellish dream, but this was another matter. He would brook no argument. She was going home, tonight. His father agreed, and had volunteered to perform the difficult ceremony tonight. It was only a matter of telling Ana.

Who wasn't taking the news very well, if truth be told. Her little globe of happiness and discovery had been shattered, and, of all people, the one wielding the club and nudging her out was Felix. That hurt, more than she cared to examine. And all to keep her safe. When her father had sent her here for the same exact reason. Could her father have possibly known what was waiting for her in this world? Could he have guessed that she would become hunted almost from the second she stepped foot on this plane's soil? And did his warnings still ring true?

Ana slipped her hand into the pocket of the gray dress where she had tucked her father's letter, trying to decide if she should show it to Felix. She didn't know if it would change his mind, but Ana could be certain that he wouldn't appreciate her hiding it from him. Just as she was about to slip the parchment from her pocket, the door to the balcony banged open, Tommy and Leena racing out into the sun, their father hot on their heels.

"Ana! Ana! Papa Howl told us that you're leaving tonight! Are you? Are you?" the children yelled as they closed in on Ana's chair, their words tumbling over one another's as their big brown eyes gazed up to Ana, brimming with emotion. With one final glance to Felix, who nodded almost imperceptibly, Ana smiled sadly, clearing her throat before speaking.

"I'm afraid so. But I'll miss you two so much," she said, running a gentle hand over Tommy's blond curls. The three soon engaged in an in-depth conversation about the nature of Ana's departure while Markl stepped up behind Felix. Clapping a hand on his honorary younger brother's shoulder, the elder man offered the younger one an understanding smile.

"It's for the best." Felix looked at Ana, carefully memorizing the curl of her dark fire hair against her skin, the dance to her green eyes as she smiled and spoke with the children. He had to believe it was true. For her sake. For her life.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

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That night, as the moon rose high and full amongst the velvet field of the sky sprinkled with stars, Ana stood before Calcifer's hearth in her Earth clothes, the pack at her feet, her hair braided tightly back and her eyes worried. Calcifer burned cheerfully in his grate, eyeing her with his small, cynical white eyes. The family was gathered around, more sorrowful than Ana had expected. Slinging her pack over her shoulder, Ana stepped over to Diane, who held her arms open wide in a warm hug. Folding Ana in closely, Diane whispered quietly in her ear, "Don't ever forget us." As the two women drew apart, Ana smiled valiantly, surprised at the sparkle of tears in Diane's violet eyes.

"Never. How could I?" Ana murmured in return, squeezing Diane's hands gently before turning to Sophie. The older woman also struggled with tears, drawing a surprised response from Ana. As the two embraced, Ana became aware of Sophie's steady heartbeat. So strong, so alive. The heartbeat of a mother. She would miss them all so much, and she would miss the mother she had found in Sophie.

"You'll always be welcome here," Sophie said quietly, her voice steady despite the quiver to her breath. Ana couldn't quite find her voice, and merely nodded in response before turning to the father and his two young children. Markl seriously shook her hand before pulling her laughingly into a bear hug. As he released her, he ruffled her hair, a move Ana swiftly ducked out from under.

"We'll miss you, darling. No one's livened up the scene the way you have in a long time." Ana laughed as she knelt to shake hands maturely with the children as they murmured proper goodbyes. However, like their father, Tommy and Leena quickly drew Ana in a little hug, Leena hesitating a mere second after her brother before following him into Ana's arms. As she stood, Ana turned to Felix, tears finally welling in her eyes.

For a moment, as the eyes of the family weighed heavy, the two stood apart, awkward and still. Hesitantly, Felix raised a hand to brush a strand of her curling hair back. As his fingers brushed her skin, light as the breath of a butterfly's wing, Ana choked back the pain of leaving him, melting into his arms. Felix caught her close, laying his cheek on the top of her head as both of them closed their eyes against the hurt of their parting. Silently, they slowly drew apart, their eyes speaking far louder than any words could manage. Gently running his thumbs along her upper arms, Felix finally stepped back, his Adam's apple bobbing as his teeth ground together. On a whim, Ana stepped forward, pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.

As she drew back, Felix whispered, "Be safe. Please." Nodding, she turned to Howl, the master of the household that had been patiently waiting as her farewells were completed. Shaking her hand, he flicked a finger along her cheek, smiling silently before leading her by the hand before Calcifer.

Only vaguely aware of what this crossing would entail, Ana turned to the little flame, murmuring earnestly, "Thank you, Calcifer, for your help." The little flame shrugged embarrassedly, shifting his eyes as his cheeks blazed a bright red. At her side silently like a phantom, Howl dipped his fingers into the ash collecting below Calcifer. He murmured gentle, strange words as he smoothed an ashen line across Ana's forehead, down her nose, then across each cheekbone. At the bemused furrow of her brows, Howl quietly explained as he captured a small ball of Calcifer's flame.

"This will not be like the crossing you experienced last time. A lightning crossing can be preserved in a spell for years, even decades. But such power draws a lot of attention, something we're trying to avoid. A fire crossing is a bit more challenging, but will ensure that you leave this plane covertly. Ash is material at its purest, and so smoothes the crossing. Come," he said, shifting Ana more truly in front of the fire, "we must prepare."

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Deep in the bowels of Black Cliffs Estate, Gabriel sat at his desk, a demonic tilt to his lips as his ebony eyes went foggy. Victoria materialized out of the shadows of the hallway silently, but still, Gabriel jolted out of his meditation. Victoria braced for a reprimand, but her master merely smiled his bone shivering grin.

"Victoria. Bring me a feather." The request was strange, but the young woman was too well trained to let surprise show.

"Of course, my lord. Any specifications?" she asked hesitantly. Gabriel pondered for a moment before answering.

"Yes. Bring me a green feather." Victoria blinked.

"Green, sir? But your aura isn't green," she blurted out, mentally horrified at her break in conduct. Gabriel merely grinned.

"I know. It's my prey's."

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With the ash streaked across her skin and her pupils tiny from watching Calcifer, Ana was already tired, on-edge, and nervous. Even if Howl had assured her that would be different, memories of the drop through the frozen field of stars flashed through her head like blinding flashes of a camera. Swallowing past her dry throat, Ana stretched out her hand to catch the ball of blue flame that coiled warmly in Howl's palm. Her sense told her it should burn as it plopped onto her skin; her heart told her it lived, a fragment of Calcifer offered to ferry her safely home.

Looking up, she caught Howl's encouraging nod. Glancing one final time to the other six people gathered to bid her farewell, Ana smiled tremulously, waving back at Tommy and Leena before cupping her hand under her other, taking a breath before raising her gathered hands to her throat. As the flame touched the sensitive skin of her neck, Ana gasped as the flames melted into her blood. It flowed under her skin like icy champagne, stealing her breath as it ebbed and bubbled under her skin.

Once her eyes fluttered open again, Ana glanced down at her hands, dumbstruck as a blue glow flowed along her skin, shining from within. Frantically looking back at Howl, Ana calmed a little as his passive, tranquil expression. This was normal. She was OK. Looking over at Felix, Ana relaxed a little more at his nod. His eyes were huge, but he had mentioned earlier that this was the first fire crossing he would actually witness.

Ana couldn't know that the ash streaks across her face were glowing white, and her shine was too bright to notice that Calcifer was now glowing so bright, he was almost silver. But she did remember the next step of the ceremony, and dipped her fingers in Calcifer's ash, kneeling to draw a circle around her on the hardwood floor. As she connected the two ends of the line, a column of white fire erupted, encompassing Ana completely as she straightened. She was startled, but felt no pain. Felix's jaw flexed, but he stood his ground. He didn't notice Markl and Howl's covert glances his way to make sure he held still. The line of ash couldn't be broken, not until Ana was home.

Inside the column of white fire, which was slowly growing brighter and brighter, Ana started as a lance of pain shot down her spine. Ever since the ceremony had begun, her pain had been wonderfully dim. It seemed strange that it would resurge so violently as such a random moment. Meanwhile, outside in the living room, Felix jolted as if someone had yanked on a nerve in his neck, his eyes flicking close against the pain as he twisted his head. It faded as quickly as it had blossomed, but left Felix uneasy. He plastered on a reassuring smile at his mother's concerned expression, but was still dogged by a sense of foreboding. This was wrong…

Ana was arrowed by shots of pain that fell faster and harder, fighting to keep control as something attacked her spine. She was supposed to fix an image of home in her mind, but every time she closed her eyes, wild visions flitted behind her eyelids. She could see a man, his soul rotting and his eyes an empty abyss, as he blew on an emerald feather resting in his palm, smiling wide enough to show a flash of wolf teeth. As Ana mentally turned from the vision, the feather followed, and suddenly a wolf, huge and black, stood snapping and snarling, familiar in its ferocity. This was not how it was supposed to happen. Through squinted eyes, she could see the blue glow on her skin turning slowly red…

Felix was becoming more and more uneasy as the seconds ticked past and the family held their breaths and their silence. The column of fire remained white, but Felix sensed something had been corrupted. His eyes flicked around nervously, his brows furrowing as the sense of foreboding rose like a wave, its fear choking him. The pain riding on the back of his neck seemed to be cutting off the blood to his head, dotting his vision with black. Blinking past the pain, Felix focused on the white fire enveloping Ana, his mouth going dry from the effort. Somehow, he sensed it before he even saw it. The flames were no longer a pure, cleansing white. Their tips were becoming stained, almost as if the fire was bleeding. Moving on pure instinct, Felix lunged forward.

"No, wait!" he cried, diving into the column of fire and crossing the line of ash.

"Felix, no! You can't do this!" his family called after him, moving just too slow to catch him. The fire swallowed Felix, then roared black, tipped in silver and smelling of blood. The family stood dumbstruck, gazing at the evil black fire.

"This is bad," Calcifer muttered. Markl glanced at the little fire, who shook his head.

"I sure hope Felix knew what he was doing," Markl muttered, kneeling to calm his upset children. Diane joined him and the children, while Sophie crossed the room, folding into Howl's arms, fear bright in her warm brown eyes. Howl's jaw was tight, and his eyes kept returning to the broken line of ash on the floor. Together, they gazed after their son's path to the fire that still roared like a tall mouth to hell. The seconds ticked by agonizingly. Suddenly, something popped out of the fire, floating slowly to the ground. It was a green feather.

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_Hey folks, I'm alive!! I'm so sorry it took so long, but, well, things have been a wee bit crazy, and inspiration has been hard to come by. And you all have the movie _The Princess and the Frog_ to thank for this chapter, as it hit that chord in me that sings, "I'm excited!! I'm inspired, and I have to write!!" If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. My new favorite Disney movie, which is saying a lot, considering I'm a Disney junkie. Anyway, onto the new chapter. I don't think it's all that confusing, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask them. Cliffhanger, I know. But that's how it's been constructed in my head for, like, ever. Intense. Predict all you want, but I'm kinda tricky with my suggestions, so don't be too sure that this is going to go the way you think it will. I just wanted to freak you all out a bit. ;) Good to write for you all again. Don't forget the usual. Review. Fan Art. Cookie if you figure out what the chapter title means. All that good stuff. Hope you like it!! Love, Tango_


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